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repentantsky · 4 years ago

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5 Companies That Have Too Much Hype Around Them

Look, we all love our favorite games with a passion, and to an extent that’s fine, but when that passion becomes obsession and that obsession becomes forgetting our own moral compass for the sake of entertainment, it does feel like it’s gone too far. It’s one thing to love what a company releases, it’s completely another to ignore every problem they’ve ever had. Not all of the companies on this list have done horribly un-ethical things, but they’ve at least been anti-consumer, and the fact that people don’t question that enough has led to them sometimes, making horrible mistakes. I am RepentantSky, I love making lists that trash on things that are popular, and these are 5 companies, that have too much hype around them.

5. Nintendo

Already I can hear people getting angry, and in a way I get it. Nintendo is for many people the place where they either begin to play games, or the place they go to keep on playing them when everything else let’s them down, and of course, they put an end to the flipping video game crash of 1983, and no one else will ever be able to claim that from them. That’s all wonderful, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be critical of them. I’ve talked about a number of things they’ve done wrong before, so let me quickly run down the list of some of their anti-consumer practices. They, charge too much for remasters and ports, they don’t drop prices in games, they used to charge for fixing Joy-Cons and now completely deny it’s a problem for legal reasons, despite everyone pretty much having experienced drift, they haven’t been good at getting stock for their items in at least 20 years, and oh yeah, they sell all the content for a remake for $115 on the 3DS, the system and the fans that helped them get by while the Wii U was massively underperforming, all while handing owners of the, at the time, unproven Switch, free content. Nintendo has a tendency to still think like a toy company, and they even used that idea to present the Nintendo Entertainment System as a toy instead of a console when they first game to the West with it, but they aren’t a toy company, their a gaming company that also sells toys, just like everyone else. I get they’ve done amazing things, I own over 150 physical handheld games from them, and a ton of digital games besides, but when they start charging twice what they are worth for SD cards, while releasing games that absolutely won’t fit on the limited space of the Switch, and they simply don’t care when costumers complain, it’s time to at least question their motives.

4. Bethesda

Boy I used to really rip on this company back when I posted lists on Facebook, but I haven’t done it in a while, so let’s do it again. Bethesda has absolutely spent at least the last 10 years lying to people, Todd Howard, has become famous for it, but I think I might have been the only person who wasn’t shocked when Fallout 76 was the disaster that it was. There were so many things wrong with that game, that I don’t even have time to go over every little thing, but lying, you know the thing that will get another company on this list very soon, was a big thing they did with the game. They promised at one point that they weren’t ever going to charge for items in the game that gave in-game benefits, and they did, allowing ammo and other items to be bought with real money for a time, they promised new, specialized servers if you paid for a yearly service that was way too expensive, and that wasn’t true because people found proof of things missing from what would have been a freshly made, private server, and there’s no excuse for that, games in early access do that correctly, and they aren’t, at least supposedly, even finished yet. I wish I could say that’s all they’ve done, but they also bullied an indie developer over their game Prey, a game they may have bullied the original developer for so they could get cheaper, but we’ll never know because they refused to comment on that when asked, they also refused to update their outdated game engine for years, which caused something they spent over a decade fixing, games releasing with glitches, some of them game breaking. Yet somehow, they have such a fan base that those who love their games will claim the glitches are just part of the charm. That kind of fierce loyalty led to Fallout 76, and even though we make jokes about it even now, the horse DLC from way back in the day, was an indication of everything they’ve done, including trying to charge for mods made for free, meant to be consumed for free, twice. Bethesda is a bad company and they do not care.

3. Activision/Blizzard

You know one of the worst things Nintendo does that I didn’t really mention directly in the first entry, is limit the amount of time a product is available, instead of just letting it be there for consumption as long as it’s selling (that was what the toy company reference was about if it wasn’t clear). However, Activision/Blizzard are the Kings of doing this, as they not only limited things while they were in control of Destiny 2 to the point where you pretty much had to use real money to get everything, and never mind everything else they did to it, because we’d be here all day going through it all, but they also don’t support games as a service titles long enough for dedicated fans. Crash Team Racing Nitro fueled, is a prime example of this. People weren’t done with that game, and when fans thought for even a split second that an update was going to come to fix an issue, their hype (mine to) was so explosive, it was almost like we were getting a new game, but then nothing happened, because they didn’t care. A lot of companies that do yearly release titles as a service have this problem and nothing exemplified that more for Activision, than Skylanders, a series originally made off the back of Spyro, who didn’t even wait for a year to release new games, as technically between October 21st and November 20th of the year the first game came out, they released three of them, and I’m not even kidding. Two of them, were mobile games! You might have thought I was going to go after Call of Duty, for this, but that horse has been beaten to ground, somehow, more than Skylanders was. They also, for whatever reason, released each expansion on different generations console generations, at different months throughout Fall, like somehow the season of Fall, they needed a release every month, if not two, and so off they went. I didn’t even get into Blizzard, but all I need to say is “Blitzchung” and all the memories will likely come flooding back. There’s also the fact that in two separate years, after gaining massive profits, they dropped hundreds of employees, and hired more than they’d let go, but I guess that doesn’t really matter to some of you, because when they did it this year, with so little warning, most employees found out via the news articles about it, but we all made such a little stink this time around, it didn’t create any media buzz, so I guess that doesn’t matter, you’d all rather play flipping World of Warcraft, like better MMO’s don’t exist.

2. CD Projekt Red

I know this one comes off a little more fresh in the mind, and they technically only lied about one game, but man, what a series of lies it was. Also, let’s be honest, one major game, does not a great developer always make. CDPR’s previous two Witcher games did exactly what the author of the books thought they would, and that was almost nothing in terms of making a serious impact, and the reason is, they are kind of bad. They aren’t the worst games out there, but there is a good reason why The Witcher 1 and 2 haven’t been ported and/or remastered, despite how important they are to the story of Witcher 3, and that’s because they both suck. Cyperpunk 2077, was in a lot of ways, them just going back to being the developer they were before, the BIG ONE happened. They lied about nearly everything in regards to the game, including how the main platforms where consumers were going to buy it, were actually running well. I made those references to Witcher 1 and 2 for a reason, although if I’m being honest, they actually look better than Cyberpunk did on day 0, and that’s completely unacceptable. The budget for CDPR was basically nothing for Witcher 1 and 2 combined to what Cyberpunk got, but they were so focused on the PC versions because PC ran the game better, somehow (like maybe because they didn’t try with consoles) and they missed glitches that were so bad, the game felt like it was still in beta, if not alpha upon release. The fact that they’ve only released eleven games in twenty-three years, and only two of them didn’t have The Witcher on them, should have told us all we need to know, and yet the game, even after returns, which was another massive screw-job that led to Cyberpunk being removed from the PlayStation store, still sold Sixteen million units, all because of hype, and because apparently, some people don’t care if they’re lied to. Do you want to know what the other game they released is besides a Witcher title? It was flipping Saints Row 2, a fun game, but also one that’s too goofy for it’s own good, and yet suddenly makes Cyberpunk’s release, make sense, because it was all a massive joke, and a parody of good, well running, open world games. CDPR needs to seriously do something, anything different, and never release a game in this poor of a state ever again.

1. Ubisoft

I put Ubisoft at number one for a damn good reason, and that reason is, that everyone seems to hate the company, but loves their games, and I don’t know why. They haven’t been the overall worst company on this list, although they are pretty bad, but the major problem they have, and have had for at least a decade is that none of their games have any identity, they are literally all the same game, with different coats of paint. Sure, an occasional gem sneaks through like Assassin’s Creed IV, but all of the rest of their games have the same visual style (although ACII does seem to be the base for which they create their art let’s be honest), the shooting mechanics they have in all the games that have guns, all feel exactly the same, which is something even Call of Duty manages to avoid most years (guess I took a shot at them anyways) and yet somehow, someway, I keep seeing people getting excited for their releases, and it doesn’t make any sense. Sure, they throw a celebrity actor in from time to time, and the artistic style they use does look pretty cool, but everything is always the same with them, every single time, no matter what it is, and they still keep making money. It doesn’t really make sense either, because a lot of developers do make games that are very similar feeling, see the Life is Strange team or much as well all loved them, Telltale Games, but at least those titles told extremely interesting stories, and developed their mechanics at least a little, which is something most companies do just on principal, but not Ubisoft. They throw out a few Tom Clancy games every time they talk about what their releasing, the Trials and AC games are still mostly a yearly experience, and I’ll say it again, their entire list of releases since at least 2013, the year the previous generation kicked off, have pretty much all been the same. It would be nice if they made more games like Child of Light, but despite the fact that their games will likely never be as popular as Call of Duty, they keep churning out same-y shooters hoping that one day, maybe just one day, they’ll create their own CoD, and it’s just not gonna happen. The saddest part of all is that when they announce something different, something fans have wanted for years, we get The Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time Remake, which was literally delayed because fans said they wouldn’t buy it unless some actual effort was put into making it, why is this company so popular that it can keep doing this, someone please explain it to me.

And that’s my list, can you think of any other companies that are too hyped? Let me know in the notes below, hit me up with a follow if you like my content, and give me a reblog, I’d really appreciate it. Have a wonderful life!

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heartofsnark · 4 years ago

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Can You Feel The Sun? (Chapter Seven): Flying Towards An Early Grave

Notes: Still posting my little backlog, I will warn in advanced, the next chapter is the heist (finally) AND IT IS A CHONKER, but for now have a little appetizer with some fun times, smut, and foreshadowing!~

Word Count: 10860

Chapter Warnings: heavy foreshadowing, food, blowjobs, groping, protected vaginal sex, car sex

If you haven’t yet, you can read the previous chapter here!~

V’s body is heavy as she gets to her apartment door, ready to curl up into bed and call it a day. She’s exhausted with adrenaline gone. She presses her thumb to the panel. The little intercom doorbell is also the lock, scanning and searching for SID validation. It takes a moment to scan, it seems to be lagging more lately.

Calling.

The intercom says it’s calling, why is it calling? She can hear the automated ringing and her lights inside are probably flashing. It only does this if the SID doesn’t match the apartment owner’s, assuming them a guest. V presses again.

Calling.

She presses harder.

Calling.

She tries her entire hand.

Calling.

She kicks her door, a heavy sound as her boot collides with it. That doesn’t help with the lock, but it makes her feel a little better. Just what she needs; bloody, sore, and locked out of her apartment for who fucking knows why? Her stomach growls as she pulls up the number for building maintenance.

“Megabuilding Maintenance, how can I help?”

“I’m locked out of my apartment,” V signs, her choker translator on.

“What do you mean?”

“The lock isn’t recognizing my SID.”

“Can I get your name and apartment number?”

V gives them the details and they say they’re sending a maintenance guy. All of the services floor is nearly shut down at the late hour, her stomach growling. No doubt the maintenance guy will take his sweet fucking time, so much for getting some decent sleep. She gets a burrito, a Nicola, and a little thing of ketchup from the machines. Sitting on the ground near her door, dumping ketchup on her burrito as she eats it.

By the time the guy arrives she’s finished eating, drinking, and is a little unsure what’s dried blood versus dried ketchup on her shirt. She hops to her feet when she sees the guy walking up, a massive case of resting bitch face. V doubts he wanted to be dragged out at three am to help unlock a door, but it’s not her fault the tech fucked up.

“You V?” he asks, voice gruff and annoyed.

“Yep.”

“Hard day?” His eyebrow raises, gaze focused on her blood stained flesh and chrome.

“Work.”

“Ah… I see,” he nods, “so, what's the issue with your door?”

Night City is one of the few places where one can just admit to being a mercenary for a living, even if it did earn her an odd look. V presses her hand to the lock button again and it once again initiates a call.

“Doesn’t recognize my SID.”

“Hmm, you are V, right?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Who the fuck else would I be? The building has a picture of me on file for fucks sake.”

“Hey, hey, nowadays with enough eddies anybody can look like anybody.”

“If I had an identity worth stealing, you really think I’d be living here?”

“Fair enough, let’s check something,” he pulls out a holo tablet, jacking it into the bottom of the intercom lock, “this will show what the lock is reading it as, try again.”

V keeps an eye on his tablet as she presses her hand back to the lock and the projected information starts to show. And for a moment she sees herself; her face, her name, her information, and all the shit Vik had to set up for her to have SID. Then in a blink of an eye it glitches out and the information shifts. She watches her nearly mugshot like photo shift into that of a man, with short dark hair and dark eyes. V [REDACTED] becomes Robert John Linder. Birthdate shifting from November 12th, 2056 to November 16, 1988. Birthplace shifting from Seven Devils, North Carolina to College Station, Texas.

Who the hell is this old man?

“Looks like it’s reading your SID chip as someone else's, strange, any chance you’ve been spiked by a ‘runner?”

“No, even if I was, not sure why they’d want to make my SID register to some senior citizen.”

“Weird, can’t think of how else this would happen? Seems like it starts to read your chip and then changes to this guy’s. Do you know him?”

“Don’t hang around old folks homes too much, actually. Just some random dude to me.”

“Hmmm.”

“I can promise you, I’m not a ninety year old cowboy man.”

“Somehow I noticed that, actually… looks like the guy is dead.”

“What?”

“Mmhmm, scroll down a bit and there’s the date his death certificate was issued,” the guy shows her, “you’ll probably need to have your SID looked at, see what’s wrong with it. For now, I can unlock it for you and have them add whoever this guy is to registered owners, so, you won’t be locked out until you fix it.”

“Fine, I guess.”

“But that does mean if this guy’s ghost decides to pop in for a visit, lock won’t stop him,” the man jokes, offering the first smile since he’s been here.

“Somehow I’ll handle it, thanks for the help, and if it’s not too much trouble can you forward me the details of that SID info?”

“Sure, no problem,” the maintenance man’s eyes glow and she can feel the very soft warmth and whirr of her neuroplant as it accepts the file.

She gives one final thanks as he unlocks her apartment and she’s finally able to step foot inside. Thankfully her door locks behind her and she makes a beeline for her shower, scrubbing blood and sweat from her skin; finding bruises, cuts, and flesh wounds she hadn’t noticed in the midst of fighting.

It takes her a little longer than expected to wind down for the night, the merc putting in her optic contacts and playing with the bot. Looking through its eyes, she has it twist and climb all throughout her apartment, making herself dizzy until she falls out of bed and bangs her head against the floor. Finally, putting the cute spider looking tech away when she feels the knot starting to form on her head. Then, setting her alarm and sleeping for the night.

V is still tired when her alarm vibrates beneath her pillow, waking her up as the sunlight streams in from her large window, warming her skin. She checks her phone, double checks the time and that Dex hasn’t sent the car for her yet. The young merc rushes through her morning routine; showering, brushing her teeth, dressing, and taking her medication with some Chromanticore in hopes of getting some energy back.

She’s out the door and has her mask on in a matter of minutes, phone buzzing with the message that Dex’s car is waiting for her. As she comes down the steps of her building she sees the same limousine and bodyguard waiting outside of it. But this time when he opens the door for her, there is no Dex, nobody. Chills creep their way up her spine, but she gets in nonetheless, sinking into the leather backseat as Dex’s guard starts to drive them away.

The guard is quiet, doesn’t explain where they’re going or why, V has a feeling he wouldn’t tell even if she asked. So, she doesn’t. Only the radio drones on, a mixture of news and occasional pop music from bands and singers she doesn’t know or care to know; an anouncer coming over the radio to speak somberly.

“Today marks the fifty-fourth anniversary of the attack on Arasaka Tower. Fifty-four years ago a group of terrorists stormed Arasaka Tower and detonated a bomb, which forever changed the history of our dear city. Devastating the lives of millions; thousands dying in the initial attack and more perishing in the aftermath as well. Today we ask for a moment of silence to remember those who lost their lives in this senseless act of violence so many years ago….:”

A beat of silence, barely a moment, then the high energy voice returns.

“Now, after this short music break, we return with the heartwarming story of Stumpy, the three legged puppy who’s gone viral after the use of veterinary cyberware has given the pup a new lease on life!~”

V rolls her eyes, sounds about right, barely a moment for something so somber. No real grief or empathy, time to move on to a cute puppy because that keeps people happy and listening. She watches the city around her change, spotting the Valentino graffiti starting to cover the buildings and that they’re entering Heywood. She sends a heads up text to Jackie, letting him know they’re not far from his house.

A short moment after, the driver is parking outside Jackie’s garage and she watches the older merc walking out. The guard opens the limousine back door and Jackie relaxes when he sees V, climbing into the seat next to her.

“Hey, V, you figure out what’s going on?”

“Was sort of hoping you had…”

“Asked T-Bug, said it’s a surprise.”

“Not sure I like Bug’s idea of surprises.”

“Hey, hombre,” Jackie calls out to the guard as he starts to drive them away, “mind telling us where we’re headed?”

They’re met with silence, because of they are. V nervously wrings her hands as she watches for signs of where they’re going based on the passing scenery.

“Has to be something to do with prepping for the job, just wish I knew what.”

“Speaking of which, you got the bot on you?”

“Yeah, brought it just in case and if Bug’s there she’ll want to take a look. Wonder if there’s any chance of keeping the Flathead after this?”

She knows Dex said it’s a single use toy, but...who knows, maybe she could somehow keep it afterwards.

“Why’s that?”

“Its cute.”

“You think a military grade combat bot is cute?”

“It's a little spider.”

“You find the weirdest shit cute, I swear.”

“It is cute!”

“It’s-” Jackie looks out the window, “shit are we in Corpo Plaza?”

“Maybe we’re just passing through?”

As if only to prove her wrong, the limousine parks outside a store on Senate Avenue, the bright sign says Jinguji. Even looking through the window, it looks entirely like a place that her and Jackie do not belong. Brightly lit, immaculately clean with fancy designer clothes on display.

“We’re here,” the guard tells them and the doors open with the press of a button.

V and Jackie share a look before getting out of the limousine, standing before the Jinguji store like deers stuck in headlights.

“Dex can’t be serious, Jinguji?” Jackie says, scratching at the shaved underneath of his hair.

“Looks…. Fancy.”

“Corp store, designer; a sock in there will cost you a few thousand eddies.”

“I know he says we need to play corpo, but… I don’t know, it feels weird.”

“I’m sure Dex knows what he’s doing. But, uh, you gotta take off the mask, chica.”

“What, why?”

“‘Cause its fucking Jinguji, they’re not gonna let you through the door looking like that.”

“You’re one to talk, you got a ketchup stain on your shirt.”

“Firstly, that’s blood. Secondly, you’re a wearing a jacket you stole off a dead guy last week.”

“Not like he needs it!”

“Jackie, V!” A voice yells out, drawing the merc’s attention into the doorway of the store, T-Bug in realspace, wearing a black netrunning suit, “would you gonks stop bickering and get in here?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the mercs speak and sign in unison, falling the netrunner into the corp store.

There’s a large lit up advertisement at the back of the store. Gold decor dripping down from the ceiling, plush white couches, and an ice bucket with champagne. To her surprise, there’s no other shoppers within the store. A man in a tailored designer suit sits at the desk, greeting the two mercs as they walk in.

“Welcome to Jinguji, an oasis of elegance!~”

V gives an awkward nod and wave. She’s not sure what else to do. She doesn’t belong here; she knows that much. A dirty black leather jacket under the bright lights and old raggedy boots on shiny polished floors. The merc wants nothing more than to run out of the store, some of the clothes she sees displayed are nice, if she’s being honest. A few bit tacky for her taste, but others are cute or sexy with dramatic flair, but nothing she would ever really have a reason to wear.

“Mind telling us why the fuck we’re here, Bug?” Jackie asks and the netrunner chuckles.

“To get into Konpeki, you two will have to look the part. Rather than blindly guessing what will fit, Dex is flitting the bill and getting you both some corpo threads,” T-Bug explains, taking a seat on on of the couches.

“Where is everyone?”

“Store is rented out for the next couple hours, discretion. V, did you bring the bot?”

“Got it in my bag.”

“Lemme see, got to make sure it’s in working shape.” V puts the bot down on the table, T-Bug opening the case and looking over the bot, running diagnostics that the merc can’t begin to understand,

“Right this way, you two, I’m sure we’ll find something perfect for both of you,” the man who greeted them, grabs their attention again, “but it would be easier, if I have a full idea of your features, miss.”

“Told you,” Jackie taunts and V elbows him in the side, slowly taking off her mask and she feels bare. And she knows people have seen her face before, but this is work and it just feels… wrong.

“Wonderful, so we’ll begin with the gentlemen, I think you’ll find we have a wonderful array of fine suits in our men’s department.”

The man, who’s fancy name tag says Zane, shows them a vast collection of suits. They range from slick classic black ones, deep navy blues, florals, brights, embroidered, and every color she can imagine. Its hard to imagine the big merc in any of them. She’s always seen him in muscle shirts or his favorite red and black jacket. His eyes seem to land on a red suit with gold detailing.

“Well-”

“Point is to blend in, not stand out, Jack,” T-Bug calls out, scolding him without having to even look at him or his choice in suit.

“Just black then.”

“Wise choice, sir, our tailors will get your measurements and get the perfect fit for you.”

Another employee guides Jackie to a fitting room and V feels the sudden urge to sink into the ground, Zane’s attention now solely on her. She scratches at her cheek and flips on her choker translator.

“Now, what about you? We have plenty of formal options in women’s fashion as well. A more androgynous business suit or perhaps a dress?”

She’s shown mannequins dressed in tight body con dresses with various necklines, materials, colors, and a few well fitted pants suits. Her eyes are drawn to the dresses, if she’s being honest. She has a rather small collection of skirts and dresses, for off days, but she never has a chance to wear anything more formal than a sundress or mini skirt over leggings. These dresses are dramatic, gorgeous; some with mesh inlays or cut outs.

But, like Bug said; they’re there to blend in, not stand out. This isn’t an outfit for fun but for work and if something goes wrong, the last thing she needs is this going to shit and having to battle in a tight constricting dress or too high of heels.

“I think a pants suit in black would be best; keep it simple.”

“Understood.”

V taken to a fitting room, given the chance to put on the ready to buy pantsuits in privacy. A stark white button up blouse, black blazer, and black slacks. And she knows immediately it will need to be tailored to suit her; the pants longer than her legs and the shirt loose around her chest. The tailor comes in after a moment and begins measuring, marking where things need to be taken in and raised. V left trying not to get embarrassed each time the measuring tape is wrapped around a part of her.

“Is there a way to make the blazer sleeves easier to roll up?” She signs once her arms are done being measured. The material is stiffer and harder to get tight around her elbows when trying; she wants her Mantis Blades easily used.

“Hmm, lets see, maybe it’d be best to use it more like an accessory rather than wearing it properly?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you could just wear it over your shoulders like a cape,” the woman drapes it that way across V’s shoulders.

“Not my thing.”

“Then you can carry it, like this,” the woman shows holding the jacket back over her shoulder with her fingers hooked in it’s collar. It looks alright, casual enough, though having a jacket and not wearing it still reads as strange to the merc.

“I’ll consider that.”

“It can also help keep you cool. Now, lets talk about makeup, hair, and shoes.”

V listens and nods as the woman gives recommendations; getting V a pair of low heeled black synthetic leather shoes. Then going into advice on hair; recommending french twist, a bun, or a low ponytail depending on how formal V wants to go. The woman recommends simple classic makeup styles and a few other tips for the merc to meet her full corpo potential. Finally, with measurements, adjustments, and everything marked; V is allowed to change back into her street clothes. She leaves the room, seeing Jackie already in his regular clothes again and sitting next to T-Bug.

“We have all the measurements down and will begin altering the clothes immediately.”

“Good,” T-Bug confirms with Zane, “remember we need them finished and delivered to The Afterlife by five.”

“I assure you, our tailors are already on it.”

“V,” T-Bug calls out when she sees the short merc, “got something for you.”

V sits down on the couch, watching as T-Bug sets out a pair of white hearing aids. They’re designed like her normal ones, just more boring.

“Hearing aids? I already have those.”

“These are special, optic camo. No corpo worth their salt has anything less than top of the line phonic implants, with press of a button or a thought, these will go invisible.. They’ll work just like your regular ones, but look like you’re wearing nothing. Try them out.”

She switches her blue hearing aids with the new ones, they fit well and she pushes the thought of turning the camo on. V catches her reflection in a mirror in the store, she can feel them, but see nothing.

“Perfect, no one will be any the wiser. This also means no signing or translator.”

“Oh, I see.”

“I know its not ideal, but it’s just the reality of it. Corpo types like this; lose your hearing, new implants. Vocal chords fried, get a new set in gold. Get paralyzed, new legs or entire nervous system. Go blind, new optics. They see you signing or using hearing aids, you’ll stand out like a sore thumb.”

“I get it.”

“No sweat, I’ll do the talking, V,” Jackie comforts her and then turns his attention to Bug, “So, what now?”

“We’ll go over the full plan this evening at The Afterlife, you two need to be there by five. We’ll talk with Dex and you’ll be in Konpeki by eight tonight, relic in hand before midnight strikes.”

“So we get to kick back and relax until five?”

“As long as you’re there by five and ready to go, I couldn’t care less what you do, Jack.”

“Said this place was rented out, right?” V asks, noticing a dramatic purple dress that reminds her of a certain tarot card reader’s favorite color.

“Yeah, why?”

“How much longer is this place reserved?”

“Another hour, maybe two and again, I ask why?”

“Ow, hell that for, chica?” Jackie looks up when V kicks him in the shin.

“Call Misty, dumbass. Buy her something nice, make a date out of it before we go on the job.” V tells him, remembering Misty’s concerns from the other night. It might ease her mind a bit to have a nice afternoon with Jackie, dress shopping and a fancy lunch in City Center. Just a chance to enjoy themselves.

“Dex is nice V, but sincerely doubt he wants to pay for Misty a new dress.”

“Oh no, if only one of us had scammed ten grand off of Militech, oh wait,” V says, pulling the Militech credchip from her bag and sees the twinkle in Jackie’s eyes.

“You serious, V?”

“Should get her a hell of a nice dress, maybe you a suit, and a nice fancy lunch; play corpo for an afternoon.”

“Shit, V,” he takes the credchip from her fingers, “what’d I do without you?”

“You two are going to make me puke,” T-Bug says, rolling her eyes while Jackie is already calling up Misty.

“Just wait until Misty gets here and the constant pet names start, you’ll really lose your lunch.”

“Ugh, more reason to get out of here, I’ll be taking the Flathead with me to keep in working shape.”

“Can I ask you something before you go?”

“Got more code you need me to check?”

“Not quite, had an issue with my SID chip last night, was wondering if there was a chance I was hacked?”

“You get spiked, jaina?” Jackie asks when he finishes chatting with Misty.

“Don’t know, couldn’t unlock my door last night, reader thought I was some old dude.”

“Hmm, SID hacks are tricky, we’re going to be using one for your covers in Konpeki. But they usually only alter your ID a bit and die after so many hours. Thing is, that wouldn’t really benefit anyone.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking, I don’t think anyone would get much out of pretending I’m some ninety year old dead fuck.”

“I can jack in, see if I find anything in your soft.”

“Sure, if you don’t mind.”

V shifts her back to T-Bug, sweeping her hair off the nape of her neck and showing her neuroports. The netrunner pushes some loose strands out of the way and slots her personal jack into V’s biomon. A few moments pass and V can feel her cheeks flushing a bit, a weird feeling to having T-Bug directly touch her and jack in to her tech. This is the first time they’ve met in person, may even be the first time Bug has seen her face.

“Everything looks clear to me, SID is registering as yours, no signs of a hack,” Bug explains, jacking out.

“Weird, maintenance guy showed last night it was showing as some dead guy.”

“Strange, must be some sort of glitch.”

“Or you’re being haunted.”

“Haha, very funny, Jackie.”

“Hello… “

A soft voice calls out and V lights up seeing Misty poking her head into the fancy luxury store, looking every bit as nervous as V had been. Jackie is up and rushing towards Misty in a heart beat, pulling her into a hug and twirling her around, kissing her head.

“You’re here, mi carina.”

“Babe,” Misty says, giggiling as she’s put back down on her feet, then steps up on her tip toes to kiss Jackie’s lips.

“Gonna puke,” T-Bug comments low under her breath and V tries not to laugh.

“V, Bug,” Misty smiles at the two, “glad I got here before you two left out.”

“What’s up?”

Jackie walks Misty over closer to them, large hand on her hip as she rummage through her purse. After a moment, she pulls out three beaded bracelets. A mixture of beads in black, gold, and blue mottled with gold. T-Bug is already raising her eyebrow and V’s not sure how well Misty’s spiritualism will go over with the runner.

“These are protection bracelets. Lapis lazuli, black tourmaline, and gold sheen obsidian. They’re all meant to help with creating a protective spiritual barrier, it should keep you all safe from negative energies and frequencies.”

“Ay, you still in knots over this, mi alma?”

“It would just make me feel better knowing you have a little more protection, babe.”

Misty slides the biggest of the bracelets onto Jackie’s wrist and he gives her a soft smile, kissing her temple before starts to give the others to V and Bug. The young merc slides it on with a smile and T-Bug takes it in hand, with a less enthusiasm.

“Thanks, Misty, I appreciate it,” V tells her and elbows T-Bug in the side, earning her a glare, but the netrunner plays nice.

“Thanks…”

“I know it’s not much, but a little protection is better than none and should keep energies bright.”

“Right….”

“Well,” V cuts in before Bug can say anything else, “we’ll be getting out of your hair, have fun you two!~”

“Thanks again, V, see you two at The Afterlife.”

Jackie waves them off, Bug packing up and V putting her usual hearing aids in their case, away in her pocket. The runner and young merc leave the store, Dex’s guard already left a while ago, so V will have to either call her car or use the public transit. Come to think of it, she’s not sure how she’s going to kill time until its game time.

“V,” Bug stops her outside Jinguji before they go their separate ways for now, “gotta ask, you really believe in that spiritual crap?”

“No, but she does and it makes her happy, so, why not?”

“I guess, if she really thinks a bracelet is going to save us from Arasaka.”

“Won’t kill you to accessorize a little, Bug.”

“Whatever you say.”

They say their goodbyes and V is left thinking again about what she wants to do to pass the time. She could do a few short gigs, but her mind is preoccupied with the heist. Ultimately, V finds herself taking the NCART to El Coyote Cojo. Mostly just because she’s bored and maybe something or someone there will occupy her time. The bar isn’t too active at the early hour and she doesn’t see Mama Welles around.

“V!” Pepe greets her when she walks through.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Same old, same old. Jaquito is still out, Senora Welles is out shopping, but Jake is taking out the trash in the back if you want to say hi.”

“I think I might go and do just that.”

Playing grab ass with one of her go to lays seems like a solid way to waste her time. V walks through the bar and out one of the backdoors that open to the alley with the dumpster. Sure enough, Jake is there tossing away a trash bag. He’s around 6’5 about as tall as Jackie, muscular, with a head of ginger hair shaved down on the shades and a thick beard.

She throws her arms around his waist, feeling the muscle underneath his shirt. He teases his fingers over her forearms, the chrome of his Gorilla Fingers cyberware sending a soft chill through her skin.

“Hey, V, new chrome?” He runs over the chrome patterns in her arms.

She hums against his back in response, not wanting to move. But, he twists in her arms. He cups her face in chromed fingers, for a moment, his browns furrow in confusion.

“No hearing aids?”

She pulls away, enough space for her to sign.

“Camouflage ones, it and the blades are necessary for the gig.”

“Oh yeah, Jackie’s been talking everyone to death about this heist you two got planned. He better be damn glad no one here’s got loose lips.” His hands drop from her face and loosely wrap around her waist, fingers starting to graze over her ass.

“Can’t blame him for being excited.”

“Hmmm and you?”

“Nervous.”

“Figured as much,” he squeezes her ass, “you looking for a distraction?”

“If I wasn’t I wouldn’t be letting you grope my ass in broad daylight, now would I?”

A low dry chuckle echoes in his chest and he dives in for a kiss. It’s quick and rough, his beard scratching over her skin before he pulls away. She can’t help but giggle as he pulls her back into the bar, hand still shamelessly on her ass.

“Pepe! I’m going on lunch break!”

“Yeah yeah, go on.”

“C’mon,” Jake guides her out of the bar, “lemme at least buy you lunch first.”

“You actually trying to be nice today?”

“Something like that.”

V settles into his passenger side seat as Jake climbs behind the wheel. They pull away from El Coyote Cojo, driving around Heywood and finding a drive in to go through, Burgers, fries, and pop bought; Jake finds a relatively empty place to park meanwhile V has already begun taking the pickles off her burgers.

“So, you wanna actually talk about it?” Jake asks, taking a bite of his burger.

“Not much to talk about,” she signs with salt covered fingers and a mouthful of fries, “biggest job of our career. Nerves are natural.”

Not to mention the shady client, the fact they’re robbing Arasaka, the fact they’re robbing Yorinobu specifically, the fact they have to play corpo, that V will have to force herself not to sign, and that every fiber of her being is screaming that something is going to go wrong. Then she has the weirdness of her SID chip fucking up on her mind as well.

“Yeah, but you overthink, so I know that little brain of yours is spinning in a billion directions.”

V shrugs, “No more than usual, so, what’s been going on with you?”

“Not much, been thinking of quitting the bar.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, get to work the day shift so I can pick the twins up from school and spend some time with them. But, day shift in a bar basically means staring at a wall and waiting for Senora Welles to cut me a paycheck.”

“You don’t like getting paid to sit around and look pretty?”

“Not gonna lie, it’d be hard to find a boss as forgiving as Senora Welles.”

“Not every boss would let you take an hour or longer lunch just to play grab ass with me?”

“Eh, pretty sure if she knew what I was doing with her precious adopted daughter, she’d already have me fired.”

“Oh please, she’s known you longer than me.”

“Yeah, but she likes you more, you’re basically her kid and I’m her employee,” he pauses watching V roll her eyes, “you know, she’s been worrying a lot about you and Jackie, lately. She knows things are getting riskier with the merc work and-”

V quiets him with a kiss, not wanting to hear another word of this. She comes to him for a distraction. The kiss is messy and he tastes like greasy fast food, but she’s sure she’s not any better, pushing her tongue into his mouth. She cups his jaw with one hand, scratching over his beard and as he deepens the kiss, she drops her other hand into his lap. He’s already half hard in his jeans, pressing into her touch as she gropes him through the denim. Jake curses against her lips, breaking their kiss.

“You talk too much, honey,” she chastises him, a soft smile on her lips as she undoes his belt buckle, he lifts his hips, allowing space to pull his pants and boxer down just enough to get his cock out.

She pulls her legs up into her seat, on her knees so she can fully lean over the center console into his lap. V pushes hair back behind her ear and takes his dick into her mouth; not bothering to tease, swallowing around him. The taste of him on her tongue causes a heat in her center to stir, getting slick between her thighs as she bobs her head up and down. He groans as she strokes and sucks him, teasing her tongue ring along the head of his cock. The bitterness of his precum and the salt of his skin making her dizzy with need.

His chrome fingers slide across the expanse of her back, reaching out to grab her ass. He gropes and fondles her through her pants, the rough feeling of her jeans and panties being pressed against her sensitive wet folds. Jake curses as V alternates between sucking, licking, and taking him as deep into her throat as she can.

He tugs on her hair, bleached strands wrapped around chrome, pulling her mouth off him. Drool covering his cock and her lips. She pouts at him for stopping her, cheeks flushed and breathing heavy. He gives her a swat on the ass, barely hard enough to sting.

“Want inside of you.”

That’s all the explanation he gives and she pulls away, thankful that the windows of his car have steamed from body heat, she begins to quickly strip off her clothes. Its clumsy as she tries to strip down in a car seat, throwing her jacket off into the back, kicking off her boots, before yanking her pants and panties down in one fluid movement. She curses herself for not wearing a skirt or something with easier access. A part of her mind recognizes how stupid she must look, still in her shirt, bra, and her socks staying on after tugging off her pants. But lust has killed her ability to think, just wanting him inside of her. Jake has rolled a condom on, but otherwise has simply watched the flustered merc strip down.

V’s easily able to jump into his lap, straddling him and having her back to the steering wheel. She steadies herself with one hand on his shoulder, the other lining his cock up with her entrance, sinking herself down onto his dick. She’s slick enough that she takes him all in one movement, both cursing out at the feeling. The stretch of his cock inside of her and the tightness of her cunt around him. Jake digs his nails into her hips and bounces her on his cock, fucking up into her. He takes complete control, setting a brutal pace that leaves V reeling with every thrust. All she can do is wrap her arms around his neck and moan against his sweaty skin, accepting each harsh movement of him inside of her.

The tension inside of her grows tighter with every thrust, every smack of skin against skin like a strike of a match trying to grow a larger flame. She can’t think, can’t focus, every thought consumed with pleasure and a desire to be pushed over the edge. Bruises form on her hips where he hold her, where he uses her for pleasure. The chair of his cheap car creaks with each bounce and a few thrusts slams her lower back into the steering wheel, but she doesn’t care, couldn’t if she tried. She whines and whimpers against his skin, feeling her end nearing.

And then the tension snaps, orgasm hitting her fast and hard, she digs her nails into his skin, squirming and writhing as she moans out her pleasure. Mind a haze as she’s overwhelmed with her pleasure. He thrusts a few more times and she nearly chokes at the continued stimulation, the feeling of him fucking into her already sensitive cunt. Then he curses, bringing her hips down fully to meet his own one last time before he cums, spilling his seed inside the condom.

V rolls off of him and back into the passenger seat, hating the empty feeling Her skin is sweaty and flushed, as much she hates it, she needs to get her clothes back on. Fumbling to get her pants and panties out of the passenger side floorboard. Pulling them on and shoving her feet in her boots. V waits as Jake ties off the condom and adjusts his jeans, opening the car door and tossing the condom away into a nearby dumpster.

The Night City air feels cool compared to the heat of the car after fucking, she watches him light up a cigarette outside of the car and grimaces. He climbs back into the driver's seat, keeping the window rolled down and she makes a gagging sound as the smoke hits her nose.

“You coming back to the bar with me?” He asks, blowing smoke out of the window.

“No,” she signs, thankful the choker translator can survive sweat, “I’ll catch the train back to Watson.”

“Let strangers see you sweaty and fuck-dazed?”

“Well, it’s a good look for me.”

“Can’t really deny that, now can I.”

She rolls her eyes and grabs her jacket getting out of the car, walking away on still slightly wobbly legs. V takes the train back to Watson, fiddling with her holophone the entire way. The merc gets off at the stop closest to her megabuilding and makes her way to her apartment; lock recognizing her on the first try.

V checks the time and decides to get ready to go to The Afterlife. Those nerves she had managed to fuck away for a moment creep up on her all over again. She shakes her head not wanting to focus on her anxieties, she strips down and grabs a shower, cleaning off the sweat from her liaison.

The merc pulls her hair back in a small low-set ponytail and does her makeup to the recommendations of the stylist. She gets dressed and uses the new camouflaged hearing aids, she takes her mask with her too. Though she knows she can’t wear it into Konpeki, she’ll still be walking into The Afterlife. That thought alone twists her guts into nervous knots.

The Afterlife is the go to bar for the top of their game, Major Leagues mercs and fixers. It’s where the biggest deals are made, the easiest place to catch a drink and a job, but only mercs or fixers of a certain standard are allowed through its doors. Jackie brags about the place like it’s heaven for mercenaries. If they’re going to become regular fixtures of the bar after this, then she’d prefer to maintain her usual level of anonymity for fixers moving forward. She’ll drop the mask when they’re finally in corpo threads.

V slides on Misty’s bracelet as well, fiddling with the beads meant to provide some form of protection. Her mind goes back to Misty’s tarot card reading, while she doesn’t put much weight on it, her friend’s fortune telling often sticks with her. The Wheel of Fortune is sticking out to her; she could care less if the cards thinks she’s stupid or if she’s about to fall in love, the latter of which so ridiculous she can’t help but dismiss it. But the idea of conflict sticks out, fear of the heist going wrong has been heavy on her mind. Something always goes slightly wrong, no job is perfect. But this has the highest stakes she’s ever encountered.

V has new cyberware, the best possible tech and upgrades from Vik. She has Jackie, her best choom and partner in crime who’s never let her down. There’s T-Bug, her friend and brilliant netrunner who could bring half of Night City down if she wished. Their fixer is Dex, one of the best in regards to his job, he has everything to gain by having their backs covered. They have military grade tech and an inside look into Konpeki. They are going in under the best possible circumstances.

She has to remind herself, review this again and again, that if something goes wrong someone there should be able to take care of it. But, those nerves don’t fade even as she leaves her apartment.

The Afterlife isn’t far from V’s apartment, practically a hop and skip downtown. Barely five minutes pass before she’s under the roofed alley, nearing the club. Vivid cyan and purple graffiti across the wall, trash along the way.

“Porque ya tengo planes para esta noche!"

The voice is familiar, Jackie’s and V pressed her back to the side of the vending machine, he’s telling someone he already has plans for tonight. He sounds frustrated, like he’s on the verge of pulling his hair out.

“Virgen Santsima, ma! Te vas a enterar mañana,” a beat of silence, “también te quiero, ma."

The conversation ways on her, he’s talking to Senora Welles. Remembering Jake talking about her feelings, that the matriarch has been worrying herself half to death. And it sounds like Jackie has been on the receiving end of that worry for a while. V pulls her mask on and rounds the corner past the vending machine, stepping in front of the main entrance of The Afterlife. Her friend standing in the doorway under the harsh green light.

“Heh, about time, chica,” he greets, tucking his phone into his pocket, she catches the blue of Misty’s bracelet mingled with his usual gold ones.

“What’s going on?”

“Ehhh, y'know. She's worried about me - whatever. Can't help herself, y'know - checkin’ to see if I'm not rottin' in some dumpster… like most of the Welles boys. Been worse lately.”

“Why’s that?”

“Started climbin' our way up. Got more an' more knives out there, waitin' to stab us in the back. Higher stakes, higher risk. She can see that.”

“Look like you’re about to keel over.” V reaches out, touching the red blotches on his skin, stress and sweat inflaming his skin.

“Years of merc work, and yet, still sweat like a roasted pig when I talk to my ma. It's really startin' to wear on me. More tell her everythin's OK, more I feel like I'm straight-up lyin’.”

“Well, hopefully you had a nice date with Misty at least.”

“Went about as well as talking to my ma right now,” he scratches at the back of his neck, “for two women who don’t get along, they sure agree when it comes to worrying about me.”

“They worry because they love you, worse things in life than people giving a damn about you.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t matter none. Not anymore, Afterlife, here we come, baby!”

Jackie changes the topic and she can’t really blame him for it, rubbing his hands together and practically cheering in excitement. This is everything they’ve talked about, everything they’ve said they want. So, why does she still have a lump in her throat?

“Afterlife… we’re really here.”

“Does not get any higher, choom. And you know somethin' else? We fuckin' earned it, chica!”

“No point in standing around then, is there?’

“Ready to get your cherry popped?” he laughs leading her into the club, “Yeeeah! Come on!”

“Little late for that one, Jack,” she teases as they make their way down the stairs, a pair of double doors opening up for them. A short step down into a small hallway with mercs and fixers alike talking under the green glow of a sign bearing the club’s name.

“Place used to be a morgue - you believe that?”

“Really?”

“I know, right? Way before our time, that. When proper burials were still a thing.”

They come to another set of doors, through the small window V can see the true club main room beyond them. But a man stands guarding them, around Jackie’s height and a similar bulky build. Cyberware indented along his jawline and nose. His face is stony, eyes sharp when Jackie and V stop before him, then he puts a large hand out in front of him.

“And who might you clowns be?”

“Jackie and V,” the taller of the mercs says with a grin, “Dexter Deshawn is waitin’ on us.”

The bouncer gives them a look and V is glad for her mask helping hide her emotions. His expression is dismissive, looking down on them, making her feel all at once that she has not earned her place in this club. A baby merc, new to the city, barely six months under her belt and she’s standing at the Afterlife. How the fuck did she get here?

“Yo, Dex. Got two live ones sayin' they're here to see ya,” his optics glow as he calls Dex, “Yeah? All right, then. Says he needs a second or two. Go get yourselves drinks or somethin'.”

The doors open to a green and cyan lit club. Music louder as the barrier breaks away, people fill the room. Some sipping on alcohol and other’s puffing away on cigarettes; the smell of nicotine and booze wafting from the bar.

“Way ahead o' you, viejo,” Jackie laughs and leads the way in.

V follows him around the corner; the large bar coming into full view. It’s lit green, the same neon sign reading Afterlife at the top of it. A bartender in a blue button up slings drinks to the patrons. Floor to ceiling columns, like tubes, are places around the club each filled with water with a dancer twirling around inside with strategically place chrome clothing covering the most private parts of them. Everything is basked in that green neon light, despite being surrounded by mercs like her, she feels so completely out of place.

Jackie marches proudly across the bar floor, stride confident and unwavering.

“This is it… The heart o' Night City! That's it right there - beating. Hear it?” he proclaims as they pass by rows of half closed off booths, “Can you imagine? Susan Forrest, Boa Boa, maybe even Morgan Blackhand… All sat on those stools, fell asleep on that same bar.”

Jackie sits in one of the barstools, beaming and brimming with excitement. His eyes wide as he takes it all in, the place he’s dreamed of for all his years. V climbs into the seat next to him, placing an elbow on the bar, leaning her head onto her hand, as she shifts to face him.

“Doubt that puts us in the same league as them,” V teases, Morgan Blackhand brought down Arasaka Tower. They’re stealing a biochip, hardly the same thing.

“Oh, but we are. They just don't know it yet,” Jackie tells her with a wink and she can’t help but roll her eyes.

“We-”

V drops her hand when she realizes Jackie’s attention has gone elsewhere, an older woman walking past the two. She’s nothing unusual, older looking than most of the crowd here, sure but nothing immediately stands out to V. An older woman with long gray hair shaved on one side and a bright yellow cropped sweater, She marches her way across the bar and into a blue lit booth, moving past a guard.

“'Ey. See that old lady there?”

“Yeah, didn’t know grannies were your type,” V taunts him again, he’s always given her shit for her taste in older people, yet he’s ogling some grandma?

“Fuck off,” he playfully smacks her, but nearly knocks her from her chair, “that’s fuckin’ Rogue, best fixer in all o' Night City.”

“Thought Dex was the best?”

“Pff… Rogue was linin' up jobs when Dex was still shittin' in diapers, heh. Place belongs to her.”

“What can I getcha?” The bartender cuts in, hands down on the bar in front of them. She’s a woman with long dark hair pulled back in a ponytail and a soft round face.

V doesn’t drink on the job, something she’s always stuck to. But, this is Jackie’s dream and she knows how he likes to celebrate. If nothing else, their banter has failed to undo her nerves, maybe booze will do the trick.

“You order,” she signs to Jackie and he grins.

“You drinkin’?”

“Special night, pick me something nice.”

“Two Tequila Old Fashioneds with a splash of cerveza and a chili garnish.”

“A duo of Johnny Silverhands, comin' up,” the bartender starts to put the drinks together, “somebody did their homework.”

“Guessing the dog ate mine,” V signs, confused because what the fuck is a silver hand?

“Age-old tradition. Drinks're named after our regulars,” she explains, putting the drinks down in front of the mercs.

“What’d I have to do to get a drink named after me?”

“Snuff it,” she grins, “ In mind-blowingly spectacular fashion, Mid-op'd be best.”

“Aah, what a beaut of a tradition!”

“Steep price for a drink, not going to lie,” V signs, letting her nerves speak for her, if only for a moment. Her guts are in knots, she can only hope the alcohol will untangle. All of the merc’s usual stress relieving tactics other than a weed brownie, have failed to do much of anything.

“Hey, everyone's gotta go sometime, right? Why not in style? Death’s nothing but the final flourish!”

“To hitting the major leagues,” she signs, holding her shot in the other hand.

“To becoming legends.”

She pushes her mask just up above her mouth, careful not to smudge her lipstick and they throw back their shots. Smooth but strong booze with a kick of spice from the garnish, a burn in her throat. Not her style, but she’s had worse. She pushes her mask back down, regarding the bartender, her nametag says Claire.

“So, who else can I drink here?” She still has no idea who Silverhand is, but maybe there’s a name she does recognize, reading the posted drink menu.

“All on the menu…”

“'Cept there's a spot missing. Morgan Blackhand, right?”

“Heh, true. Morgan's yet to make up his mind he's dead or still kickin',” Claire tells Jackie and V rolls her eyes.

“Think he’s still alive? It’s been years,” Jackie asks Claire.

“No way he’s still alive,.” The radio was just talking about the devastation of the tower going down, if that many folks were killed who were just near it, then there’s no way someone who was in the tower survived.

“Why not? Look at Rogue. Peeps from that era - a species unto themselves.”

“And one day we’re gonna be there too,” Jackie probably proclaims, “speaking of which, name’s Jackie Welles if you want to write down my recipe.”

“Sure.” There’s a playfulness in her tone, just going along with Jackie’s whims.

“Shot of vodka on the rocks, lime juice, ginger beer… oh, and most importantly - a splash of love.”

“Haha, I'll remember that.”

“Gag,” V signs just to see the glare Jackie levels her way, the playful smack of her arm.

“Okay, what’s your drink then?”

“Literally, the only thing I drink is like cherry cola with a splash of bourbon.”

“You know those are usually supposed to be reversed, the bourbon and coke.”

“Maybe so, but, and hear me out… cherry cola tastes better.”

“Heard you were Dex’s latest finds,” Claire tells them.

“Just biz, no big deal.”

“How'd you know?” V raises an eyebrow behind her mask.

“My job to know. Look around - how do you think meres earn their reps? Through gossip rivaling that of schoolgirls, that's how.”

“Mr. DeShawn see you now,” a booming voice rings out behind the mercs, turning around she sees Dex’s bodyguard. The first time she’s heard his voice.

“Love to hang, imbibe the vibe, but we got an important meeting,” Jackie tells Claire, getting up from his seat and V following suit, throwing some cash down on the bar.

“Break a leg.”

“This way,” the bodyguard tells them and the mercs falls in line behind him. He leads them around the bar, past the crowd and through a door towards the back of the club. The lighting shifting, more blue than green as they walk past another vending machine.

“Damn, holmes, you're huge... Work out?” Jackie asks, unable to stand the silence.

“Hmm.” A vague grunt as they pass through another door, the music fading as they get further from the main bar. But V can just hear the starting beat of some old dad rock, something about losing another day to pointless drudgery.

“Same here, y'know, in the ring. You do some kinda exotic shit? Kempo? Ninjitsu?”

Nothing as they turn another corner.

“Think you could take me, drop me?”

“Jackie…” Why must he sound like he’s picking a fight with the guy?

“In here,” the guard says, stopping and standing in front of another door.

"Este pinche tipo..."

The door opens and they’re greeted to the first room with warm lighting, though it just seems to be a storage corner. With a cabinet and vending machine. But to the left are barely see through walls of a booth that takes up half the room, through them V can just see T-Bug’s outline and leather couches.

They walk around, the front of the booth opened. A wrap around black leather couch goes around the back wall and left side of the booth. Dex sat on the back portion, talking into a holo about Excelsior and cold hard eddies. T-Bug sat to side, a table in the center of the room with the Flathead, Jinguji boxes, and shards placed on neat little index cards. There’s a small disconnect leather seat in the right corner, next to the door.

“Gotta bounce,” Dex hangs up, “well, if it ain’t Miss V.”

“Whole family in one place! Hah! Finally!”

“That’s one way to put it,” T-Bug teases and a shine of blue catches V’s eye, the netrunner wearing Misty’s bracelet. She can’t help but smile.

“A’ight, then… Set your butts down comfy,” Dex tells them. Jackie plops himself onto the larger couch next to T-Bug, comfortably spreading his arms over the back of it while V takes the smaller seat, putting her at an angle to see everyone. She stifles a laugh, seeing Jackie’s leg excitedly bounce up and down.

“Sweet booth, is it soundproof?”

“Jackie…” T-Bug scolds and V stifles a laugh.

“Now, now, Mr. Welles is right. We gon' be goin' over some sensitive material. But if it's all right with y'all, I'd like to start with a question for Miss V… Evelyn Parker - how'd you fare?”

All eyes on her, stomach still twisted in a vise, this is her chance. She’s got to tell him, but she doesn’t want Evelyn hurt. Some fixers will go to any length to get revenge on a client or merc who does them dirty. But, he’s got a right to know the shit she pulled.

“Intel was good, brain dance was exactly what we needed….”

“So, she just wanna see wha'ss good, or was there somethin' else?”

“Honestly?”

“Wouldn’t ask for anything else, Miss V.”

“She’s high risk as far as clients go. Shady as fuck, naïve as all hell, and genuinely thought she could make me another offer.”

“Another offer?” Dex’s brow raises about his sunglasses.

“Wanted me to cut you out for more cash, told her no, of course. But, wouldn’t do business with her again, if I were you.”

“Cut me out… shiiiit, now that’s rich,” Dex laughs, Jackie nervously laughing along, “Clients... never learn, do they?”

“You’re not pissed?”

“Lived in NC too long to blow my top every time some amateur thinks they can take me for a ride. Parker ain't the first and sure as hell won't be the last.”

“Fair enough,” V lets out a sigh, thankful if nothing else that Dex doesn’t seem prone to getting too mad at Evelyn. Maybe she’s being too kind, but she can’t help but think Evelyn is more naive than malicious when it comes to the offer. A stranger to the merc world.

“I do appreciate you sharin' this info, though, Miss V. You see, trust… …is essential in any partnership that's to be long-lasting and fruitful.”

“Figured you had a right to know, so, what’s the plan?”

“This.”

Dex gestures towards the shards on the table, V takes the one in front of her and slides it into her shard slot. UI and graphics lighting up her mask, a map pulling up on the tech.

“Me and Dex've already covered the fine detes. Ops wise, should be a stroll on the beach.”

“Elaborate, I wanna hear it.”

“A Delamain'll drop your asses at the front door of Konpeki Plaza,” a picture of the hotel shows, then two names, “You'll stroll right in thanks to your false identities. Then, with Bug's help, you'll breach the hotel's subnet…”

“Mine and the Flathead's help.” Images of the hotel’s interior and the bot flash by.

“Last but not least, you slip into Yorinobu's penthouse and klep the Relic,” his words bring up images of the heir and his suite.

“Goes without sayin' we do this on the hush - ideally no bodies, not a one.” The shard shows them The Relic and then blips out.

“You'll have T-Bug on comms for the duration. Time for your burnin' questions.”

“What’s our cover?” V asks, they’ve been told a thousand times they’ll be acting like corpos, but that’d be hard to do if they have no idea what their story is suppose to be.

“Hello, Ramón Victorino,” T-Bug looks at Jackie and then to V, “and you’re Hannah Conwell.”

“Ramón - yeah, OK. What do we say we're there for?”

“Biz as usual. Corpo arms deal. Case anyone asks, you there for a bogus meetin' with Arasaka's defense rep - Hajime Taki. Anything else?”

“How do we get in the penthouse?”

“Yorinobu's got barely any muscle. Hardest part'll be penthouse security. If we wanna disable, we'll need to neutralize Konpeki's dweller - elite ‘runner monitoring the hotel's subnet twenty-four seven. Only catch is there's no way to get in the dweller's den from the outside.”

“Hold on, how you want us to get inside a room you can't get into?”

“Trust me when I say whatever hitch you think up. T-Bug's solved it already”

“This is where the Flathead comes in. You'll have to get him in the ventilation shafts, guide him to the dweller and force the dweller to… take a break. Flathead'll stay there, jacked into the dweller, but thanks to that I’ll be able to roll out your red carpet into the penthouse.”

“Anything else?”

“Transports a Delamain?” She has no idea if the company has an ASL sign like most other corporations and doesn’t have time to think of one on the fly.

“Preemest cab company in all Night City… Nada mal,” hackie tells her.

“DeShawn don't ever work with anyone but the best. I consider Delamain just that.”

“Yeah, who needs creepy, nosy cab drivers when you've got a clean AI to get you from point A to point B in style?”

“And how he bags a permit to operate every year's still a mystery.”

“If everythin' goes as planned, Delamain'll drop you back here. If things get sticky, he'll head for the safe house.”

“Which is?”

“The No-Tell Motel. Quiet, no questions asked. Make our next move from there. But I'm flat certain that won't be necessary. Though, there is one more consideration for if it does.”

“What’s that?”

“Hate to put you on the spot, Miss V,” Dex explains, “but if shit goes sour, I’m gonna need to know who I’m letting into the hotel. Mask can’t go with to Konpeki, so I’d sure feel a hell of a lot better if I knew what was hiding behind that thing.”

“Oh… yeah, that makes sense.”

Even if she’d have Jackie with her when shit goes down, Dex is trusting her with this heist. The least she can do is trust him to see her face and not write her off or sell her out to The Herd if the chance arised. Not that she can see that happening anyway…

“Don’t even know why you wore the thing in, V,” Jackie teases.

“Well, there are other fixers here, didn’t want to give away my face…”

V carefully pulls off her mask, feeling exposed all over again, a new set of eyes on her face. The merc knows how she looks; five feet with a head of bleach blonde hair and big gray eyes. Not the picture one conjures in their mind when they think of a capable, strong, badass merc. Sprinkle in her disability and the reactions to her deafness; most people think she’s not a threat, weak.

“That what you’ve been hiding behind that mask? All that fuss, for what?” Dex laughs.

“Hard to take,” she stumbles over her English trying to sign at the same time, “be taken- seriously sometimes when you’re five foot nothing, deaf, and look like…”

“Gutterpunk Barbie,” Jackie cuts in to tease, earning him a sharp kick to the shin.

“Fuck off.”

“Trust me, Miss V, you pull off this job; ain’t nobody in their right mind gonna underestimate you”

“That’s the hope...”

“Any other questions?”

“I got a question. When do we get to the real reason we're all here?” Jackie asks, shooting a wink V’s way.

“Now's a good a time as any. Fresh talent gets thirty percent always, but I'm willin' to make an exception in your case. I'ma cut you a nice, juicy forty as a bonus for your honesty, V.”

“Much appreciated.”

“Ka-ching baby!~”

“Last thing, Konpeki's got a strict no-iron policy. Security gates, the works. So you dawgs'll leave your lead-spitters in the ride, take the Flathead inside in its case.”

“Got your suits from Jinguji on the table.”

“¡Chido!”

“Thanks, Bug.”

“So, not to count chickens, but when'll we see our eddies?”

“All depends how Ms. Parker unrolls herself or her role, but a week, two tops is my guess.”

“And what do we do in the mean time?”

“You sit tight, heads down, 'cause ol' uncle Arasaka be watching. Now, as that ol’ Greek dawg says, life's a banquet - so don't go thirsty, but don't get drunk, either,” he tells them as he leaves the booth, “Your chariot awaits outside.”

“My cue to delta, too. Gotta prep to jack in, be there when you come on comms. Any other issues, now's your chance,” T-Bug tells them, shifting her feet and something catches V’s eye. Delta V emblazoned on the netrunner’s boots, was that there before?

“Plan - your take?” V shakes the thought from her head, must be a brand or a runner thing V doesn’t know.

“Enough, I hope, to put me in a luxury Creton Villa from which I'll never set foot in cyberspace again.”

“Send me a postcard?”

“No offense, but I'm gonna burn any and all bridges - need a clean break.”

“Gonna take Misty’s bracelet with you?” Jackie teases, grinning because he caught it too.

“Shut up,” she tells him, rolling her eyes.

“Uh, just realized something, what’s gonna happen to our clothes? I don’t want to lose my mask…”

“No worries, put them in the boxes, we’ll have ‘em sent back to your places.”

“Alright then, lets get this show on the road.”

“Let's get to work, go ahead and get changed, Delamain is parked out front, uh, okay-”Bug starts to trip over her words when the two mercs start taking off their jackets, “you can use the bathrooms.”

“Eh,”

Jackie and V shrug their shoulders, the outfits are right there. Not much point in dragging them out to the bathroom. The pair shared a bedroom for the better half of six months, a room with one bed. They’ve seen each other naked plenty, boundaries destroyed a long while back.

“Why do I bother,” T-Bug rolls her eyes and leaves the booth, letting the pair change.

V kicks off her boots and takes off her socks, Jackie tugging off his jewelry first.

“So, you’re nerves still going crazy?” Jackie asks her as she tugs off her shirt, his own tossed off.

“What do you mean?” She tugs off her pants, both mercs soon standing around in their underwear.

“Can’t hide that shit from me, chica, been giving me twice as much hell as usual. You’re freaking out.”

“High stakes, Jack, of course I’m a nervous mess. Means I give a shit.”

She pulls the slack on and tugs on the white blouse, buttoning it up. The two of them putting on the corpo clothes, similar in look. Black slacks, white button up tops, black suit jackets, and Misty’s beaded bracelets for protection. Each perfectly tailored for their body types.

“Don’t sweat it so much, V, we got this.” He sticks his fist out.

“Sure fuckin’ hope so.” She bumps her fist to his.

Their street clothes are packed away in the boxes, V puts in her optic contacts and slide on her heels, then they start to make their way out of the booth. But, Jackie stops her with a hand on her shoulder and he taps his throat. She catches on taking off her choker translator, neck feeling bare and odd without the tech. With that they leave out through the club, Jackie carrying the Flathead case and the smaller merc keeps her head down as best she can. Her stomach still in knots as they spot the Delamain in the parking lot.

Her life is about to change forever; hopefully for the best. She’s on the cusp of having everything she’s wanted since she’s come to the city. The verge of earning the respect of everyone in this city and finally feeling like she’s someone, like she’s done something.

So, why does she feel like she’s about to puke?

#cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #johnny silverhand #silverv #jackie welles #t-bug #dexter deshawn #female v #aidan v becker #aidan becker #original female v

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yell0wybear · 3 years ago

Text

I posted 421 times in 2021

25 posts created (6%)

396 posts reblogged (94%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 15.8 posts.

I added 361 tags in 2021

#fnaf reblog - 280 posts

#fnaf - 18 posts

#anartistwhowrites - 11 posts

#mushramoo - 11 posts

#bluberry712 - 8 posts

#stupid-idiot-man - 7 posts

#fnaf security breach - 7 posts

#foil-bubbles - 7 posts

#spacejordy - 6 posts

#xxmissrose01 - 6 posts

Longest Tag: 85 characters

#ive never said it before but i interpreted itp as the ballpit being filled with agony

My Top Posts in 2021

New FNaF news!

We have a potential release date for Security Breach; November 18th, 2021

(The screen shot is from @Mazeo64 on Twitter)

27 notes • Posted 2021-09-25 18:27:03 GMT

For those not in the know, recently, WAX.io had announced FNaF themed NFTs (non-fungible tokens). They are cryptocurrency that harm the environment.

However, Scott himself has clarified on Freddit that was not fully aware of NFTs and simply thought they were "digital collectables."

So let's not attack Scott for the decision he made. He wasn't fully aware of what they were.

28 notes • Posted 2021-05-15 19:21:22 GMT

After a long wait, Steel Wool has released some new FNaF stuff.

1. An official Security Breach website

(I admit this has been out for quite some time, I just forgot to post about this. Sorry)

And 2. This Hanna-Barbera style short cartoon episode.

youtube

Since this is episode one, there might be more.

It's quite cool to see something like this come out of FNaF, especially from Steel Wool, so I hope there's more to come.

33 notes • Posted 2021-09-07 20:29:44 GMT

I know this seems out of nowhere, but I'm just curious.

To any of my followers who are into FNaF (like me), what do you think is the reason for the Toy animatronics' (FNaF 2) behavior? As in, why do they act out and try to kill the nightguard?

With the Classics/Withereds, it's because of Missing Children.

And sure Phone Guy says their working theory is that there's a glitch that makes the animatronics mistake the guards for an endoskeleton, but there's some aspects to the Toys that adds to my skepticism of that explanation.

So, what do you all think is the reason?

54 notes • Posted 2021-02-15 19:11:45 GMT

FNaF NEWS!

NEW SECURITY BREACH TRAILER YOOOO!!

youtube

And now have the date: December 16th, this year (2021)

103 notes • Posted 2021-10-27 21:26:05 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #Youtube

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cerradofolc · 4 years ago

Text

This is the story where word 'cyberpunk' appears first time ever.

First published in AMAZING Science Fiction Stories, Volume 57, Number 4, November 1983

* * *

The snoozer went off at seven and I was out of my sleepsack, powered up, and on-line in nanos. That's as far as I got. Soon I booted and got -

CRACKERS/BUDDYBOO/8ER

on the tube I shut down fast. Damn! Rayno had been on line before me, like always, and that message meant somebody else had gotten into our Net - and that meant trouble by the busload! I couldn't do anything mor on term, so I zipped into my jumper, combed my hair, and went downstairs.

Mom and Dad were at breakfast when I slid into the kitchen. "Good Morning, Mikey!" said Mom with a smile. "You were up so late last night I thought I wouldn't see you before you caught your bus."

"Had a tough program to crack," I said.

"Well," she said, "now you can sit down and have a decent breakfast." She turned around to pull some Sara Lees out of the microwave and plunk them down on the table.

"If you'd do your schoolwork when you're supposed to you wouldn't have to stay up all night," growled Dad from behind his caffix and faxsheet. I sloshed some juice in a glass and poured it down, stuffed a Sara Lee into my mouth, and stood to go.

"What?" asked Mom. "That's all the breakfast you're going to have?"

"Haven't got time," I said. "I gotta get to school early to see if the program checks." Dad growled something more and Mom spoke to quiet him, but I didn't hear much 'cause I was out the door.

I caught the transys for school, just in case they were watching. Two blocks down the line I got off and transferred going back the other way, and a coupla transfers later I wound up whipping into Buddy's All-Night Burgers. Rayno was in our booth, glaring into his caffix. It was 7:55 and I'd beat Georgie and Lisa there.

"What's on line?" I asked as I dropped into my seat, across from Rayno. He just looked up at me through his eyebrows and I knew better than to ask again.

At eight Lisa came in. Lisa is Rayno's girl, or at least she hopes she is. I can see why: Rayno's seventeen - two years older than the rest of us - he wears flash plastic and his hair in The Wedge (Dad blew a chip when I said I wanted my hair cut like that) and he's so cool he won't even touch her, even when she's begging for it. She plunked down in her seat next to Rayno and he didn't blink.

Georgie still wasn't there at 8:05. Rayno checked his watch again, then finally looked up from his caffix. "The compiler's been cracked," he said. Lisa and I both swore. We'd worked up our own little code to keep our Net private. I mean, our Olders would just blow boards if they ever found out what we were really up to. And now somebody'd broken our code.

"Georgie's old man?" I asked.

"Looks that way." I swore again. Georgie and I started the Net by linking our smartterms with some stuff we stored in his old man's home business system. Now my Dad woudln't know an opsys if he crashed on one, but Georgie's old man - he's a greentooth. A tech-type. He'd found one of ours once before and tried to take it apart to see what it did. We'd just skinned out that time.

"Any idea how far in he got?" Lisa asked. Rayno looked through her, at the front door. Georgie'd just come in.

"We're gonna find out," Rayno said.

Georgie was coming in smiling, but when he saw that look in Rayno's eyes he sat down next to me like the seat was booby-trapped.

"Good Morning Georgie," said Rayno, smiling like a shark.

"I didn't glitch!" Georgie whined. "I didn't tell him a thing!"

"Then how the Hell did he do it?"

"You know how he is, he's weird! He likes puzzles!" Georgie looked to me for backup. "That's how come I was late. He was trying to weasel me, but I didn't tell him a thing! I think he only got it partway open. He didn't ask about the Net!"

Rayno actually sat back, pointed at us all, and smiled. "You kids just don't know how lucky you are. I was in the Net last night and flagged somebody who didn't know the secures was poking Georgie's compiler. I made some changes. By the time your old man figures them out, well..."

I sighed relief. See what I mean about being cool? Rayno had us outlooped all the time!

Rayno slammed his fist down on the table. "But Dammit Georgie, you gotta keep a closer watch on him!"

Then Rayno smiled and bought us all drinks and pie all the way around. Lisa had a cherry Coke, and Georgie and I had caffix just like Rayno. God, that stuff tastes awful! The cups were cleared away, and Rayno unzipped his jumper and reached inside.

"Now kids," he said quietly, "it's time for some serious fun." He whipped out his microterm. "School's off!"

I still drop a bit when I see that microterm - Geez, it's a beauty! It's a Zeilemann Nova 300, but we've spent so much time reworking it, it's practically custom from the motherboard up. Hi-baud, rammed, rammed, ported, with the wafer display folds down to about the size of a vid casette; I'd give an ear to have one like it. We'd used Georgie's old man's chipburner to tuck some special tricks in ROM and there wasn't a system in CityNet it couldn't talk to.

Rayno ordered up a smartcab and we piled out of Buddy's. No more riding the transys for us, we were going in style! We charged the smartcab off to some law company and cruised all over Eastside.

Riding the boulevards got stale after awhile, so we rerouted to the library. We do a lot of our fun at the library, 'cause nobody ever bothers us there. Nobody ever goes there. We sent the smartcab, still on the law company account, off to Westside. Getting past the guards and the librarians was just a matter of flashing some ID and then we zipped off into the stacks.

Now, you've got to ID away your life to get on the libsys terms - which isn't worth half a scare when your ID is all fudged like ours is - and they watch real careful. But they move their terms around a lot, so they've got ports on line all over the building. We found an unused port, and me and Georgie kept watch while Rayno plugged in his microterm and got on line.

"Get me into the Net," he said, handing me the term. We don't have a stored opsys yet for Netting, so Rayno gives me the fast and tricky jobs.

Through the dataphones I got us out of the libsys and into CityNet. Now, Olders will never understand. They still think a computer has got to be a brain in a single box. I can get the same results with opsys stored in a hundred places, once I tie them together. Nearly every computer has got a dataphone port, CityNet is a great linking system, and Rayno's microterm has the smarts to do the job clean and fast so nobody flags on us. I pulled the compiler out of Georgie's old man's computer and got into our Net. Then I handed the term back to Rayno.

"Well, let's do some fun. Any requests?" Georgie wanted something to get even with his old man, and I had a new routine cooking, but Lisa's eyes lit up 'cause Rayno handed the term to her, first.

"I wanna burn Lewis," she said.

"Oh fritz!" Georgie complained. "You did that last week!"

"Well, he gave me another F on a theme."

"I never get F's. If yu'd read books once in a -"

"Georgie," Rayno said softly, "Lisa's on line." That settled that. Lisa's eyes were absolutely glowing.

Lisa got back into CityNet and charged a couple hundred overdue books to Lewis's libsys account. Then she ordered a complete fax sheet of Encyclopedia Britannica printed out at his office. I got next turn.

Georgie and Lisa kept watch while I accessed. Rayno was looking over my shoulder. "Something new this week?"

"Airline reservations. I was with my Dad two weeks ago when he set up a business trip, and I flagged on maybe getting some fun. I scanned the ticket clerk real careful and picked up the access code."

"Okay, show me what you can do."

Accessing was so easy that I just wiped a couple of reservations first, to see if there were any bells and whistles.

None. No checks, no lockwords, no confirm codes. I erased a couple dozen people without crashing down or locking up. "Geez," I said, "There's no deep secures at all!"

"I been telling you. Olders are even dumber than they look. Georgie? Lisa? C'mon over here and see what we're running!" Georgie was real curious and asked a lot of questions, but Lisa just looked bored and snapped her gum and tried to stand closer to Rayno. Then Rayno said, "Time to get off Sesame Street. Purge a flight."

I did. It was simple as a save. I punched a few keys, entered, and an entire plane disappeared from all the reservation files. Boy, they'd be surprised when they showed up at the airport. I started purging down the line, but Rayno interrupted.

"Maybe there's no bells and whistles, but wipe out a whole block of flights and it'll stand out. Watch this." He took the term from me and cooked up a routine in RAM to do a global and wipe out every flight that departed at an :07 for the next year. "Now that's how you do these things without waving a flag."

"That's sharp," Georgie chipped in, to me. "Mike, you're a genius! Where do you get these ideas?" Rayno got a real funny look in his eyes.

"My turn," Rayno said, exiting the airline system.

"What's next in the stack?" Lisa asked him.

"Yeah, I mean, after garbaging the airlines . . ." Georgie didn't realize he was supposed to shut up.

"Georgie! Mike!" Rayno hissed. "Keep watch!" Soft, he added, "It's time for The Big One."

"You sure?" I asked. "Rayno, I don't think we're ready."

"We're ready."

Georgie got whiney. "We're gonna get in big trouble-"

"Wimp," spat Rayno. Georgie shut up.

We'd been working on The Big One for over two months, but I still didn't feel real solid about it. It almost made a clean if/then/else; if The Big One worked/then we'd be rich/else . . . it was the else I didn't have down.

Georgie and me scanned while Rayno got down to business. He got back into CityNet, called the cracker opsys out of OurNet, and poked it into Merchant's Bank & Trust. I'd gotten into them the hard way, but never messed with their accounts; just did it to see if I could do it. My data'd been sitting in their system for about three weeks now and nobody'd noticed. Rayno thought it would be really funny to use one bank computer to crack the secures on other bank computers.

While he was peeking and poking I heard walking nearby and took a closer look. It was just some old waster looking for a quiet place to sleep. Rayno was finished linking by the time I got back. "Okay kids," he said, "this is it." He looked around to make sure we were all watching him, then held up the term and stabbed the RETURN key. That was it. I stared hard at the display, waiting to see what else was gonna be. Rayno figured it'd take about ninety seconds.

The Big One, y'see, was Rayno's idea. He'd heard about some kids in Sherman Oaks who almost got away with a five million dollar electronic fund transfer; they hadn't hit a hangup moving the five mil around until they tried to dump it into a personal savings account with a $40 balance. That's when all the flags went up.

Rayno's cool; Rayno's smart. We weren't going to be greedy, we were just going to EFT fifty K. And it wasn't going to look real strang, 'cause it got strained through some legitimate accounts before we used it to open twenty dummies.

If it worked.

The display blanked, flickered, and showed:

TRANSACTION COMPLETED. HAVE A NICE DAY.

I started to shout, but remembered I was in a library. Georgie looked less terrified. Lisa looked like she was going to attack Rayno. Rayno just cracked his little half smile, and started exiting. "Funtime's over, kids."

"I didn't get a turn," Georgie mumbled.

Rayno was out of all the nets and powering down. He turned, slow, and looked at Georgie through those eyebrows of his. "You are still on The List."

Georgie swallowed it 'cause there was nothing else he could do. Rayno folded up the microterm and tucked it back inside his jumper.

We got a smartcab outside the library and went off to someplace Lisa picked for lunch. Georgie got this idea about garbaging up the smartcab's brain so that the next customer would have a real state fair ride, but Rayno wouldn't let him do it. Rayno didn't talk to him during lunch, either.

After lunch I talked them into heading up to Martin's Micros. That's one of my favorite places to hang out. Martin's the only Older I know who can really work a computer without blowing out his headchips, and he never talks down to me, and he never tells me to keep my hands off anything. In fact, Martin's been real happy to see all of us, ever since Rayno bought that $3000 vidgraphics art animation package for Lisas birthday.

Martin was sitting at his term when we came in. "Oh, hi Mike! Rayno! Lisa! Georgie!" We all nodded. "Nice to see you again. What can I do for you today?"

"Just looking," Rayno said.

"Well, that's free." Martin turned back to his term and punched a few more IN keys. "Damn!" he said to the term.

"What's the problem?" Lisa asked.

"The problem is me," Martin said. "I got this software package I'm supposed to be writing, but it keeps bombing out and I don't know what's wrong."

Rayno asked, "What's it supposed to do?"

"Oh, it's a real estate system. Y'know, the whoe future-values-in-current-dollars bit. Depreciation, inflation, amortization, tax credits -"

"Put that in our tang," said. "What numbers crunch?"

Martin started to explain, and Rayno said to me, "This looks like your kind of work." Martin hauled his three hundred pounds of fat out of the chair, and looked relieved as I dropped down in front of the term. I scanned the parameters, looked over Martin's program, and processed a bit. Martin'd only made a few mistakes. Anybody could have. I dumped Martin's program and started loading the right one in off the top of my head.

"Will you look at that?" Martin said.

I didn't answer 'cause I was thinking in assembly. In ten minutes I had it in, compiled, and running test sets. It worked perfect, of course.

"I just can't believe you kids," Martin said. "You can program easier than I can talk."

"Nothing to it" I said.

"Maybe not for you. I knew a kid grew up speaking Arabic, used to say the same thing." He shook his head, tugged his beard, looked me in the face, and smiled. "Anyhow, thanks loads, Mike. I don't know how to . . ." He snapped his fingers. "Say, I just got something in the other day, I bet you'd be really interested in." He took me over to the display case, pulled it out, and set it on the counter. "The latest word in microterms. The Zeilemann Starfire 600."

I dropped a bit! Then I ballsed up enough to touch it. I flipped up the wafer display, ran my fingers over the touch pads, and I just wanted it so bad! "It's smart," Martin said. "Rammed, rammed, and ported."

Rayno was looking at the specs with that cold look in his eye. "My 300 is still faster," he said.

"It should be," Martin said. "You customized it half to death. But the 600 is nearly as fast, and it's stock, and it lists for $1400. I figure you must have spent nearly 3K upgrading yours."

"Can I try it out?" I asked. Martin plugged me into his system, and I booted and got on line. It worked great! Quiet, accurate; so maybe it wasn't as fast as Rayno's - I couldn't tell the difference. "Rayno, this thing is the max!" I looked at Martin. "Can we work out some kind of...?" Martin looked back to his terminal, where the real estate program was still running tests without a glitch.

"I been thinking about that, Mike. You're a minor, so I can't legally employ you." He tugged on his beard and rolled his tongue around his mouth. "But I'm hitting that real estate client for some pretty heavy bread on consulting fees, and it doesn't seem real fair to me that you... Tell you what. Maybe I can't hire you, but I sure can buy software you write. You be my consultant on, oh . . . seven more projects like this, and we'll call it a deal? Sound okay to you?"

Before I could shout yes, Rayno pushed in between me and Martin. "I'll buy it. List." He pulled out a charge card from his jumper pocket. Martin's jaw dropped. "Well, what're you waiting for? My plastic's good."

"List? But I owe Mike one," Martin protested.

"List. You don't owe us nothing."

Martin swallowed. "Okay Rayno." He took the card and ran a credcheck on it. "It's clean," Martin said, surprised. He punched up the sale and started laughing. "I don't know where you kids get this kind of money!"

"We rob banks," Rayno said. Martin laughed, and Rayno laughed, and we all laughed. Rayno picked up the term and walked out of the store. As soon as we got outside he handed it to me.

"Thanks Rayno, but . . . but I coulda made the deal myself."

"Happy Birthday, Mike."

"Rayno, my birthday is in August."

"Let's get one thing straight. You work for me."

It was near school endtime, so we routed back to Buddy's. On the way, in the smartcab, Georgie took my Starfire, gently opened the case, and scanned the boards. "We could double the baud speed real easy."

"Leave it stock," Rayno said.

We split up at Buddy's, and I took the transys home. I was lucky, 'cause Mom and Dad weren't home and I could zip right upstairs and hide the Starfire in my closet. I wish I had cool parents like Rayno does. They never ask him any dumb questions.

Mom came home at her usual time, and asked how school was. I didn't have to say much, 'cause just then the stove said dinner was ready and she started setting the table. Dad came in five minutes later and we started eating.

We got the phone call halfway through dinner. I was the one who jumped up and answered it. It was Georgie's old man, and he wanted to talk to my Dad. I gave him the phone and tried to overhear, but he took it in the next room and talked real quiet. I got unhungry. I never liked tofu, anyway.

Dad didn't stay quiet for long. "He what?! Well thank you for telling me! I'm going to get to the bottom of this right now!" He hung up.

"Who was that, David?" Mom asked.

"That was Mr. Hansen. Georgie's father. Mike and Georgie were hanging around with that punk Rayno again!" He snapped around to look at me. I'd almost made it out the kitchen door. "Michael! Were you in school today?"

I tried to talk cool. I think the tofu had my throat all clogged up. "Yeah...yeah, I was."

"Then how come Mr. Hansen saw you coming out of the downtown library?"

I was stuck. "I - I was down there doing some special research."

"For what class? C'mon Michael, what were you studying?"

It was too many inputs. I was locking up.

"David," Mom said, "Aren't you being a bit hasty? I'm sure there's a good explanation."

"Martha, Mr. Hansen found something in his computer that Georgie and Michael put there. He thinks they've been messing with banks."

"Our Mikey? It must be some kind of bad joke."

"You don't know how serious this is! Michael Arthur Harris! What have you been doing sitting up all night with that terminal? What was that system in Hansen's computer? Answer me! What have you been doing?!" My eyes felt hot. "None of your business! Keep your nose out of things you'll never understand, you obsolete old relic!"

"That does it! I don't know what's wrong with you damn kids, but I know that thing isn't helping!" He stormed up to my room. I tried to get ahead of him all the way up the steps and just got my hands stepped on. Mom came fluttering up behind as he yanked all the plugs on my terminal.

"Now David," Mom said. "Don't you think you're being a bit harsh? He needs that for his homework, don't you, Mikey?"

"You can't make excuses for him this time, Martha! I mean it! This goes in the basement, and tomorrow I'm calling the cable company and getting his line ripped out! If he has anything to do on computer he can damn well use the terminal in the den, where I can watch him!" He stomped out, carrying my smartterm. I slammed the door and locked it. "Go ahead and sulk! It won't do you any good!"

I threw some pillows around 'til I didn't feel like breaking anything anymore, then I hauled the Starfire out of the closet. I'd watched over Dad's shoulders enough to know his account numbers and access codes, so I got on line and got down to business. I was finished in half an hour.

I tied into Dad's terminal. He was using it, like I figured he would be, scanning school records. Fine. He wouldn't find out anything; we'd figured out how to fix school records months ago. I crashed in and gave him a new message on his vid display.

"Dad," it said, "there's going to be some changes around here."

It took a few seconds to sink in. I got up and made sure the door was locked real solid. I still got half a scare when he came pounding up the stairs, though. I didn't know he could be so loud.

"MICHAEL!!" He slammed into the door. "Open this! Now!"

"No."

"If you don't open this door before I count to ten, I'm going to bust it down! One!"

"Before you do that-"

"Two!"

"Better call your bank!"

"Three!"

"B320-5127-OlR." That was his checking account access code. He silenced a couple seconds.

"Young man, I don't know what you think you're trying to pull-"

"I'm not trying anything. I did it already."

Mom came up the stairs and said, "What's going on, David?" "Shut up, Martha!" He was talking real quiet, now. "What did you do, Michael?"

"Outlooped you. Disappeared you. Buried you."

"You mean, you got into the bank computer and erased my checking account?"

"Savings and mortgage on the condo, too."

"Oh my God . . ."

Mom said, "He's just angry, David. Give him time to cool off. Mikey, you wouldn't really do that, would you?"

"Then I accessed DynaRand," I said.

"Wiped your job. Your pension. I got to your plastic, too."

"He couldn't have, David. Could he?"

"Michael!" He hit the door. "I'm going to wring your scrawny neck!"

"Wait!" I shouted back. "I copied all your files before I purged! There's a way to recover!"

He let up hammering on the door, and struggled to talk calm. "Give me the copies right now and I'll just forget that this happened."

"I can't. I mean, I did backups in other computers. And I secured the files and hid them where only I know how to access."

There was quiet. No, in a nano I realised it wasn't quiet, it was Mom and Dad talking real soft. I eared up to the door but all I caught was Mom saying "why not?" and Dad saying "but what if he is telling the truth?"

"Okay Michael, Dad said at last. "What do you want?"

I locked up. It was an embarasser; what did I want? I hadn't thought that far ahead. Me, caught without a program! I dropped half a laugh, then tried to think. I mean, there was nothing they could get me I couldn't get myself, or with Rayno's help. Rayno! I wanted to get in touch with him, is what I wanted. I'd pulled this whole thing off without Rayno!

I decided then it'd probably be better if my Olders dind't know about the Starfire, so I told Dad first thing I wanted was my smartterm back. It took a long time for him to clump down to the basement and get it. He stopped at his term in the den, first, to scan if I'd really purged him. He was real subdued when he brought my smartterm back up.

I kept processing, but by the time he got back I still hadn't come up with anything more than I wanted them to leave me alone and stop telling me what to do. I got the smartterm into my room without being pulped, locked the door, got on line, and gave Dad his job back. Then I tried to flag Rayno and Georgie, but couldn't, so I left messages for when they booted. I stayed up half the night playing a war, just to make sure Dad didn't try anything.

I booted and scanned first thing the next morning, but Rayno and Georgie still hadn't come on. So I went down and had an utter silent breakfast and sent Mom and Dad off to work. I offed school and spent the whole day finishing the war and working on some tricks and treats programs. We had another utter silent meal when Mom and Dad came home, and after supper I flagged Rayno had been in the Net and left a remark on when to find him.

I finally got him on line around eight, and he said Georgie was getting trashed and probably heading for permanent downtime.

Then I told Rayno all about how I outlooped my old man, but he didn't seem real buzzed about it. He said he had something cooking and couldn't meet me at Buddy's that night to talk about it, either. So we got off line, and I started another war and then went to sleep.

The snoozer said 5:25 when I woke up, and I coudln't logic how come I was awake 'til I started making sense out of my ears. Dad was taking apart the hinges on my door!

"Dad! You cut that out or I'll purge you clean! There won't be backups this time!"

"Try it," he growled.

I jumped out of my sleepsack, powered up, booted and - no boot. I tried again. I could get on line in my smartterm, but I couldn't port out. "I cut your cable down in the basement," he said.

I grabbed the Starfire out of my closet and zipped it inside my jumper, but before I could do the window, the door and Dad both fell in. Mom came in right behind, popped open my dresser, and started stuffing socks and underwear in a suitcase.

"Now you're fritzed!" I told Dad. "I'll never give you back your files!" He grabbed my arm.

"Michael, there's something I think you should see." He dragged me down to his den and pulled some bundles of old paper trash out of his desk. "These are receipts. This is what obsolete old relics like me use because we don't trust computer bookkeeping. I checked with work and the bank; everything that goes on in the computer has to be verified with paper. You can't change anything for more than 24 hours."

"Twenty-four hours?" I laughed. "Then you're still fritzed! I can still wipe you out any day, from any term in CityNet?"

"I know."

Mom came into the den, carrying the suitcase and kleenexing her eyes. "Mikey, you've got to understand that we love you, and this is for your own good." They dragged me down to the airport and stuffed me in a private lear with a bunch of old gestapos.

I've had a few weeks now to get used to the Von Schlager Military Academy. They tell me I'm a bright kid and with good behavior, there's really no reason at all why I shouldn't graduate in five years. I am getting tired, though, of all the older cadets telling me how soft I've got it now that they've installed indoor plumbing.

Of course, I'm free to walk out any time I want. It's only three hundred miles to Fort McKenzie, where the road ends.

Sometimes at night, after lights out, I'll pull out my Starfire and run my fingers over the touchpads. That's all I can do, since they turn off power in the barracks at night. I'll lie there in the dark, thinking about Lisa, and Georgie, and Buddy's All-Night Burgers, and all the fun we used to pull off. But mostly I'll think about Rayno, and what great plans he cooks up.

I can't wait to see how he gets me out of this one.

Brought to you by The Cyberpunk Project

Page last modified on Monday, October 2, 2000.

#cyberpunk.ru #cyberpunk #Bruce Bethke #dystopia

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space-blue · 4 years ago

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Time’s Arrow

I wrote this in memory of a man I was smitten with for a long long time... It is the only story where I wrote a passage that felt written through me, made perfect by some greater force. A flow as good and deep as during your best tetris jams...

'Damn Ellen, Paris is off the maps forever isn't it?'

'Looks like it. No more visits to the Louvre for our holidays.'

'Well, instead of visiting the museums, we'll get to visit the Glass Sea of Paris.'

'When radiations cool, in half a million years?'

'You know this is the work of Russia's Harbingers. It's gonna be fine for tourism in fifty years tops.'

'How can you tell it's the Russians behind that? The news don't know yet.'

'It's a safe bet. Of all our enemies, no one else has the missiles required to fuse stuff the way that news drone is showing. At least not enough for a crater the size of Paris.'

'Fair point, Bobby.'

My husband is smart even when he's drunk, or rather, he becomes sloppy a while after I'm too drunk to notice. The news on TV have been drinking material for weeks now, but we try to contain both our drinking and TV time. Our little wine shelf is almost empty, and we need to keep the best for our last evening.

'I still can't believe it's all happening.'

'Yeah, feels like we'll realise we were watching the Sci-fi channel all along, doesn't it?'

Except there are no more fancy channels now. I let myself slump against Bobby. The world swirls, like we're on a raft. Adrift and going down the drain. I feel his fingers plunge in my hair, his voice rumble out of his chest as he comments on the never ending horror show of the news. I need to sleep. We have so much work to do, and so little time to finish now.

----

In my dreams I'm twenty and Bobby thirty-five again, just old enough to feel scandalous, but smart enough to obsess me. We meet once more in the hall of my building at NASA. Our programs, about to join and merge like our lives and our love later would, is still about space exploration, and not yet about human survival. But time has gone by, as time is wont to do. The past only lives in my dreams.

----

One day I had offered to exit stasis first, and spend a few years setting up our new abode, developing relationships with our new neighbours–if there were any–just to even out our age gap. He'd laughed at that, refused to be robbed of the privileges of a young wife.

"Besides," he'd said, "if the dinosaurs are back, I'd want to be there to defend you, tame them and learn to ride them..."

"If our stasis tanks last long enough for dinos to re-evolve, we could give ourselves a Nobel Prize of all sciences compounded."

Truth is, we don't know how they'll fare, or if they'll even take us through the war, as brief as it'll probably be. We've tested them before, short sleeps increasing to two full years in 2036-38. Our tanks have few changes from the original deep-pods we built for NASA. But a single glitch could mean death. I plunge my hand in the depth of a panel, feeling my way up the thick cooling lines and slowly tugging coils of them out in the open. Ten years working on these machines and I still can't shake the feeling of disembowelling them when the cables flop in my lap. A huntress in a lab-coat, oil a dark-blue blood under my nails. I run my fingers along the length of the cables, inspecting every joint, looking for wear and pieces to replace. How many years before one of them ruptures, a tremor from our dying world snaps them out of place? The deep-stasis pods Bobby and I worked on at NASA were meant to last almost indefinitely, easily up to a century without physical check-up, but within ships which propel themselves smoothly, and won't risk getting bombed or running out of power.

'Bobby, which wires did you say you wanted me to look at? This is all fine.'

'Bundle B1A, Ellen. And maybe T4A too, if you have time.'

'I always have time for this. If you're worried, then so am I.'

'I'm sure it'll be fine. The installation is ready, the power systems have been running smoothly for years. The sleep should go as planned.' He cleans his hands in a rag. 'All the auxiliary systems are good, I'm done with my check list, and just in time.'

I make a face at my handsome, grubby looking husband.

'I wish we could go back in time, instead of freezing it.'

'We're not freezing time, only removing ourselves from it.'

'Nothing in physics keeps time from flowing back, I wish I had studied more... Invented something to turn the arrow of time.'

I picture the glass sea of Paris contracting, liquefying itself in a mass of living people, monuments and pastry shops, the missile collecting its fragments and taking flight, propelled only by the inexorability of time. I imagine arguments being swallowed back, wine spit in glasses and gurgling up bottles. I imagine my ring sliding off my finger, Bobby's lips hot on mine for the first time again, and then unknown to me. Time doesn't seem to ever be kind.

----

Many cities have joined Paris into oblivion before the TV went quiet, and we drink in their name, and the name of all the people snuffed out by the war. The wine is red, french, our best and last bottle. Bobby looks at me anxiously before opening it. He fears it might have turned to vinegar. But it hasn't, and we make the best of it, drinking and fucking like teenagers all night long.

When morning comes we leave our bedroom for the cellar, bleary eyed, down our bunker, to our new beds.

'Ellen, Ellen, I'm scared.' His hands are around my face, cupping it behind my ears, turning me in some sort of parabolic dish directed towards him, tuned to receive the warm radiations of his love. 'I'm so scared of losing you.'

I cover his hands with mine and tell him how since I love him more, I'm the most scared, and drink in the sight of his face crinkling in a lavish smile.

'I'll see you in a hundred years handsome, but it'll feel like ten minutes, like last time. And we'll be together again.'

I hate to see him like that in his tank. It feels like bending over a metal coffin. I kiss him deeply, listen to his speech slur as the drugs take over, his eyes, until last, never leaving mine.

My own tank is cold and clammy, and the slow chime of the console as the computer helps me launch the last protocols sounds like a soft electronic bedtime tune. I listen to my breath, to my slowing heart, and the world goes dark.

----

Waking is horrible, no matter how long you've slept. I've been puking for a while, panting, coughing, and my head won't stop spinning. I'm halfway out of my tank, shivering in the cold air. There are voices speaking all around me, and a thick cover wraps my shoulders.

'Bobby?'

'Nej, sisa.'

'Huh?'

I look up into the face of a complete stranger. A woman, making cooing sounds at me. Around us are bright lights and more people wearing face masks.

'What the...'

Behind her shoulder, Bobby's tank is open. My mind trips to make sense of how open it is. Panels unscrewed, bowels dark and grey and missing. It's so wrong.

They're taking me away, I'm too weak to fight it. They're not slowing down, no matter how loud I cry.

----

A man settles in front of me, and props a little apparatus on his knees. It's a flat, metallic object, the size of a hand, without screens or special features. He taps it, speaks over it in his alien tongue, and the machine translates his words to English.

'My name is Martek, I am Fransken. How do you feel? Do you need medical attention? What is your name?'

I gape. Questions fight to come out first.

'I'm fine, my name is Ellen Vorden, I–'

The man smiles at me, and repeats my name.

'What year is this?'

'We're in 1750.'

'What?'

For a moment I think of the year 1750, however impossible Time Travel might be. But the man's smart black clothes, long braided hair and advanced technology don't look very industrial revolution.

'Ah, sorry' Martek flushes, 'in old English it is the year 2350.'

It takes me a long time to process that, to imagine how a hundred years sleep more than doubled itself. The best explanation...

'Where is Bobby?'

No. No, why is he frowning?

'The man in the other machine?'

'Yes.'

----

He left me a message, of the sort that could withstand time, carved and gouged into the stone floor. Like an old pyramid treasure room, they unearthed our little bunker and found us, relics of the past. Me in my metal sarcophagi, Bobby a skeleton propped at my side. From what I gathered, critical system failures made the computer launch his awakening eighty-eight years in our sleep. With irreplaceable broken parts in his stasis monitor, there was no going back to sleep for him. Outside data must have been terrible, because he chose to dismantle his tank to tinker and enhance mine. At the bottom of his message are some universal scribbles, present over all the greatest buildings of mankind and whatever school desks might have survived the ages: a B+E in the middle of a heart, and under it 2030– and the looped symbol of eternity. Time folded back on itself.

Ah, Bobby, you tacky bastard, you old romantic. How do I live after you?

----

Ellen love, I hope you make it and we won't go down in history as another stupid, star-crossed couple of scientists. I had no choice. I watch you sleep. It's so hard to keep from waking you up. I think of Time like you did sometimes, wishing for it to roll back. But it doesn't. You'll have to let it flow too, when you wake up. I hope the world will be a better place then. Until the universe cools and time ceases to matter, when past is present and we can be together again, you touring me around your labs, proud like a little peacock, so adorable, so brilliant – I'll be yours, always.

Bobby

~~ November 2016 – Theme : 1750

#original story #original work #competition #scifi #romance #favourite

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46ammy · 5 years ago

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Primal Zodiac of the LU Links

So I was browsing through Tumblr when I found a link to Primal Astrology, in which it gives you a primal zodiac by combining your Chinese Zodiac (birth year) and your Zodiac constellation (birth month) signs, and I was fairly amused by how some parts were pretty accurate describing my personality.

Me being rather obsessed with LU, I decided to look up the Primal Zodiac signs for each Link in the LU verse, based on their release date of their “timeline-wise” first adventure (eg: Four= Minish cap)

Some of the descriptions I found pretty close to what the fandom depicts each Link’s personality, and some I kinda disagree/ not certain about.

Ones I agree for the most part:

Hyrule February 21, 1986 -> Pisces + Tiger = Stingray “those born under the sign ... are adventurous, humanitarian, generous, sincere, rebellious, and emotionally fragile all at the same time. .... but stingrays are also deep thinkers, dreamers, and idealists. ..... While they may spend a great deal of time lingering in the background, they are not afraid to stand up for themselves, and can be a very formidable opponent.... love intense conversations and ideas that they can share with others... tend to play whatever role suits them best in different social situations... attracted to mysterious people, places, and things... relish the unusual and unexplained...” (That’s how I see Hyrule for the most part)

Legend November 21, 1991 -> Scorpio + Sheep = Panda “...tend to be popular but loners, want to go with the flow but have to feel in charge of their own destiny, long to relax but are always working on projects.... Those born under this sign are quiet, collected, and focused, but can become obsessive, overly critical, and anxious if left alone for too long. ... aren’t very social by nature, but still enjoy having like-minded friends around. ... may not seem their nature, they are deep down romantics...” (while some may debate on the quiet part, I see that as him being quiet about himself, not sharing too much with others.)

Time November 21, 1998 -> Scorpio + Tiger = Honey badger “Powerful, passionate, and resilient ... fierce competitors who are not afraid to go after what they want. .... fearless in their conquests and will not back down to anyone. ... Deep down Honey badgers want something to live fore beyond mere day to day survival. Survival is easy for them, finding their place in the world is not. On the outside they come across as tough, mysterious, and unable to be broken, but inside they are actually quite fragile and complex. .... members of this sign are old souls who carry with them a deep wisdom that allows them to understand human nature. They inherently know what people want, which is why they are often so successful. ....spend a great deal of their time and energy pursuing their goals, and are almost always alone or leading a group. Those who do get to know them well discover that they are extremely loyal to their friends and actually have a surprisingly great (and shocking) sense of humor. When they relax they can be the surprise hit of the party.” (The Old man in a nutshell, for the most part)

Warriors August 14, 2014 -> Leo + Horse = Hyena “members of this sign strongly prefer to spend time in large groups of friends and families. ... very strong-willed sign with the ability to follow through on their promises and take what is theirs when necessary. .... have an easy charm about them that draws other people in. ... great at taking charge of situations, and are by far most comfortable when they are in charge. .... main weakness of Hyenas is their tendency to be self-centered. .... are highly likable, and tend to only conflict with others who challenge their social leadership. Even in social groups where everyone is equal, Hyenas tend to become the de facto leaders of the group simply because of their ease and charm.” (The Captain in a nutshell. ‘nough said.)

Wild March 3, 2017 -> Pisces + Rooster = Ocelot “keep others at a distance. ... don’t really want confrontation.... (but) enjoy the company of others quite a bit. They sometimes isolate themselves because it is the easiest, and sometimes the only, way to fully harness their immense creative power. .... can get things done, but in their own unique, visionary style. They truly don’t need others to succeed, but can benefit quite a bit from connecting to people in the real world. ... like to be inspired by new surroundings and new adventures.”

(I don’t completely agree with the keep others at a distance and they make a big front to do so, but one thing is that Wild’s personality can differ depending on the player’s play style, so I guess this may fit in some interpretations.)

Wind December 13, 2002 -> Sagittarius + Horse = Dove “Independent, energetic, and adventurous, .... love life and long for new experiences. ... always looking forward; they rarely dwell on the past. ... often restless, which can lead them to take risks in life. .... seem lucky because they are so optimistic. Even when they are feeling down, those born under this sign always manage to get back on track. They believe that they can have whatever they want if they work hard for it, and they are almost always right. .... They have tons of energy and never want to stop moving, which ironically causes them to miss out on many of life’s more subtle experiences. .... they are spirited, independent and have a tendency to speak bluntly, but they also have big hearts, great senses of humor, and a unique philosophy about life.” (he is a sailor and an explorer for new land, I do see Wind never wanting to stop moving)

Ones I’m not sure:

Sky

November 18, 2011 -> Scorpio + Rabbit = Koala “Emotional, powerful, and intense, .... It’s not that they are putting up a false front, it’s that they are trying to keep their tornado of emotions safely inside themselves. .... can seem harmless from a distance, but can be quite defensive if provoked or approached without caution. .... A tendency of this sign is to use passive aggression and subtle manipulation to get what they want. While they try their hardest to be convincing, they can’t help but wear their emotions on their sleeves. .... Koalas are deeply emotional, and on top of that they have a way of burying their feelings to keep them secret, even to themselves. .... When in their element, these individuals are surprisingly sweet, loving, caring, and even funny.” (I see Sky being sweet as his default emotion, that isn’t a surprising element of his personality. This description had a more negative connotation with the word “emotional” than positive for me. But if you look at it in a different angle, he may harbor some passive aggression.)

Four

November 4, 2004 -> Scorpio + Monkey = Raven

“ Strong, curious, and energetic, ... deepest desire is to overcome the odds, to triumph, and to prove themselves to the world. .... difficult to pin down. .... the Raven Spirit was considered a trickster - a sly and cunning individual who would often get what they wanted, or otherwise entertain themselves, through the intellectual manipulation of others. Powerful and unpredictable .... highly developed senses of humor... Loyal, gregarious, and funny, Ravens can be the life of the party or they can be self-absorbed, competitive, and negative. ... prefer to be big fish in a small pond, getting their fix of attention from those who know and understand them best.”

(Hmmm, Four is a difficult person to pin down his personality, he does have four separate ones if he wishes to use the ability of the Four Sword. Cunning, yes he is, but intellectual manipulation of others for his amusement? that sounds more like Shadow. Then again, Shadow did kinda come from Four...)

Twilight

November 19, 2006 -> Scorpio + Dog = Octopus

“Loyal, ambitious, and intense, ... prefer to deal in facts rather than emotions. ... can be fairly anti-social. To be more specific, they tend to be uncomfortable in most social situations. ... prefer time alone or with a couple of their closest friends with whom they share a great deal of the same ideals. .... The mind ... is both complex and contradictory. They are part rebel but part people-pleaser. They have deep reserves of inner strength but become nervous and uncertain at the slightest glitch in the plan.They are passive while temperamental, honest while secretive, .... internalize their negative feelings rather than expel them into the world, .... value loyalty, honor, and work ethic above all else. They often have difficulty creating their own happiness, mostly because they prioritize things like pride and power over peace and serenity. Always hardest on themselves... Socializing is not their strong suit,...”

(Socializing not being his strong suit? Anti-social? I don’t see it. Twilight is very good with children. You need to be able to do socializing to have smaller children adore you, like how the Ordon children adores Twilight in the game. Not emotional? Twilight is pretty emotional, I mean look at his expressions in TP!)

Those are my opinions. What do you guys think? (you can click the underlined hyperlinks to see the full profile for each sign)

#Primal Zodiac Signs #lu #linked universe #linkeduniverse #loz #which zodiac signs are each Links?#some fit some don't imo #click on the hyperlinks to see full profile of each sign

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breakingsomething · 5 years ago

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when nothing’s left

hey! sorry i haven’t written anything in a while, i’ve been very unmotivated. anyway, here’s this thing that i did- i might continue it at some point if i can be bothered.

trigger warnings for suicidal ideation, blood n shit

chase brody is on top of the world.

at least, that’s how he fancies himself. in reality, he is sitting on the edge of a tall apartment building, overlooking the city from the ledge he is perched on. chase is very much surprised that there are no fences or anything around the roof, considering how easily he’d gotten up here. all he’d had to do was smile charmingly at a woman at the door to the stairwell and she’d let him borrow her access key to the roof. it was very stupid of her. chase couldn’t believe his luck.

the wind blows his hair wildly, and the cold air feels like it’s slapping him in the face. he clings to the ledge and swings his legs in the endless open space beneath him, squinting his eyes to help him see. across the city, he can see minuscule planes and taller buildings silhouetted against the reddening sky, and when he looks down he can see the hundreds of cars and pedestrians passing beneath him. so oblivious, chase thinks. can’t they see the world is ending?

behind him, chase hears the now familiar glitching sound and accompanying thump that warns him of the arrival of a person he really doesn’t want to see right now. chase doesn’t turn and the man sighs loudly and throws himself down besides chase. there is a solid minute of silence where they both look out at the everything and the nothing of their city sprawled out in front of them.

finally, anti speaks. “hey. i’m here now.”

chase ignores him.

he hears anti shift his position. “you know, i’m still gonna be here whether you want me to be or not. you’re kind of stuck with me now.”

chase wants to cry or scream or push the demon off the side of the building just so he can see what it feels like.

anti makes a few odd sounds, no doubt to get on chase’s nerves. “why are you up here?”

when chase once again doesn’t answer, anti begins to get pissed off and pokes him in the arm. even his fingers feel sharp somehow. “yo, bitch! stop being so fucking depressed and talk to me, for fucks sake.”

chase pulls away from him, still without looking at him. “yes, i get it, you’re an attention whore.” his voice is scratchy. it’s the first words he’s said in hours. “now can you fuck off and leave me alone?”

anti lets out a breathy laugh. “wallowing in self pity isn’t exactly going to help either of us now, adidas. man the fuck up.” he shifts his position again and chase bites back the urge to yell at him to pick a spot and stick with it. he instead stands up, so quickly his head spins. his feet are on the very edge of the rooftop. if he moved an inch, he’d instantly fall to his death. for a moment, he thinks of all the people down below and what it’d be like for them if a person suddenly fell from a building above them. it could hurt someone if he fell on top of them. he could traumatize someone. he could get someone into a great deal of bother if they hung around the scene and were interviewed by nosy news reporters wanting all the details of the latest tragedy.

it doesn’t really matter. no one down there is real, and the world is ending.

he’s snapped out of his thoughts when anti grabs his arms. “hey! hey, hey, hey, no killing yourself here. not on my watch.”

anti glitches and is suddenly on his feet next to chase. he pulls chase away from the edge, dragging him towards the centre of the rooftop. chase says and does nothing. there’s nothing else to say or do.

anti stands before him, and chase finally tears his gaze away from the november skyline to look at him.

he used to be a terrifying entity. he always had been, from the day chase had first seen him grinning wickedly and holding henrik’s motionless body before disappearing with him for the next nine months, to the day he had appeared in the hallway of chase’s house, turning the world red, right eye gleaming, to the day he had found chase wandering the city, cold and without his hat or jacket or bag, waiting for something that would kill him. but now he looks almost completely human. his eyes are a dull green, so different from how bright they used to be. his skin is sickly pale, like chase’s. even his brown hair seems flat and lifeless. he doesn’t even constantly glitch like he used to. the only inhuman thing about him is his neck wound, which is stained with dried blood that he hasn’t bothered to wash off. chase studies him as anti huffs loudly, wrapping his arms around himself. wearing a pma zip up hoodie and his signature black ripped jeans, he looks just like jack. it sickens chase. he wants to slap the angry demon just to see if he’d snap and kill him.

anti breaks eye contact and rolls his eyes. “ok, whatever. you’re boring.” he goes over to the roof door and plops down next to it, closing his eyes. chase knows there’s no point in going back to the ledge. anti would appear next to him before he could even get up the courage to jump. not that he was planning to. not yet, at least.

instead chase marches to the door and flings it open, making his way down the stairs. the air down here is somehow colder, maybe due to the depressingly dark walls that all look wet for some reason. he wonders where the woman who gave him the rooftop pass has went. he can hear anti calling after him, and hears when anti appears next to him. the stupid glitch sound that used to charge dread into the hearts of him and his brothers makes him feel sick and fills him with rage. he stops and spins towards the demon. “why don’t you just kill me and get it over with?”

for a moment, anti looks surprised, but he instantly wipes his expression and chase wonders if he imagined it.

“why don’t you- all you’ve ever wanted to do was kill me and jack and my brothers and- well, here’s your opportunity!” chase spreads his arms wide, not caring that he’s shouting in this public stairwell. “so kill me! torture me if you have to! come on, isn’t this what you wanted?” he’s crying, and anti’s blank face is making him want to hit him. “isn’t this what you wanted?”

for a moment anti says nothing. then he breaks out in a huge grin. “it’s more fun to watch you suffer.” he says nonchalantly. anti pushes past chase and jumps onto the banister, sliding down the stairwell out of sight, leaving chase shaking with rage and grief.

he finds the woman halfway down to the bottom of the stairwell. she’s slumped against the wall in between two doors. her throat has been slit open. there’s no knife left behind. chase leaves the pass on her unmoving chest and continues walking.

chase finds anti waiting for him in the lobby, sitting at the bottom stair and tossing his bloodstained knife from hand to hand.

“why’d you kill her?” he asks casually.

anti shrugs. “she was annoying. i was walking up the stairs after you cause i’d seen you go in the building, right, and she was there and she was all like, hey aren’t you the guy i let onto the roof? and i was like no, that’s my brother, and then i asked why she let you up, and she said because you had an apartment here and you’d shown her your id and house key, and i asked what you’d said your name was, and she was like oh, some german name, i can’t really remember, and then i realized this was the ol’ doctor’s apartment building and that’s why you were up here, right, but the woman was starting to be all weird and she started saying weird stuff and her eyes went weird, so i killed her. are you listening to me?”

chase is not listening to him. he is staring at the noticeboard hung on the wall, which is mostly covered in graffiti and advertisements. but in the centre is a poster- a wanted poster, a proper wanted poster, with chase’s face on it. wanted for the murder of wife stacy brody and kids louise brody and connor brody, said the poster. he doesn’t read the rest of it. he simply leaves the building.

it is freezing cold out, but he doesn’t care. he shoves his hands in his hoodie pockets and starts walking, tuning out the cars and trucks roaring by and the loud chatter of passerbys and the group of people busking on the corner and the people yelling across the streets to each other and the wind roaring in his ears. all the sounds make him want to claw his ears off so he never has to hear anything again, especially not that terrible glitching sound that he hears now next to him, or the familiar voice asking him to stop in a strained voice-

he turns. anti is standing just behind him, bent over, hands on his knees. the crowd of people part around him as though he isn’t even there. chase considers leaving him. but he’s curious as to what is putting so much pain in anti’s voice.

“what- what’s up?” chase asked tentatively. anti stands up straight. his face is completely drained of colour. he doesn’t answer chase’s question, just stumbles to his side.

“where are we going?” anti says. chase doesn’t care enough to challenge his decision to ignore him.

“i don’t give a fuck where you’re going, but i’m out of money. probably going to sleep in the park again.” he turns away from anti and begins walking again.

“wait!” anti calls, and chase groans before stopping.

“god, what the fuck do you want?” he knows there’s no point in being angry. but this whole situation is becoming his worst nightmare. his brothers- jackie, marvin, henrik, jamie- are all gone except for the one he didn’t want to be stuck with, and the world is fucking ending.

“i can get money,” anti says. the pain is gone from his face, and he gives chase a wicked smile. “wait here.”

he dissolves, leaving chase staring at the empty space where he once was. the fact that none of the people walking around them even notice what just happened tells chase all he needs to know. the situation is getting worse. in fact, as he looks around, he can see that something is definitely wrong. he can’t tell what, but something is off about the crowd, all jabbering loudly in chase’s ears. he sits on a bench a couple metres away from where he was. at the other end of the bench is a young woman with dark hair and a long blue dress. chase looks at her face, and he sees what’s wrong- there is no emotion there. her eyes are dead, glassed over, and her mouth hangs open slightly. chase glances behind him, and sees that, yes, it’s the same for all of them- unfocused eyes and blank expressions everywhere. it gives him chills. he turns back around, facing forward, making eye contact with no one.

the world is fucking ending, he thinks for the millionth time that day.

anti is usually back within minutes, but after having sat there for ten, chase begins to worry. not for anti, he couldn’t give less of a shit about anti, but for the poor citizens who are having to put up with him. he wonders what the hell anti’s doing to ‘get money’, and how many people he’s going to kill to do it. chase wonders why he doesn’t just leave anti. then he reminds himself that no matter where he goes, anti is sure to find him. also, whether he likes it or not, he’s all chase has left in the world.

he feels immediately guilty after having thought that. the things anti has done to him and his brothers- he tries to imagine what henrik or jackie would say, knowing he was fraternizing with the enemy. he almost laughs at the dumb way he’s phrased that thought in his head- it makes anti sound like he’s a comic book villain, rather than a heartless murderer. chase closes his eyes.

wahoomp. the familiar sound fills chase with- relief? it couldn’t be that. chase opens his eyes and, instead of turning to ask anti why he’d taken so long, he glances at his watch. “wow, twenty three minutes,” chase quipped. “glitch demon’s gotten slow, has he?” it’s then that he turns to glance at anti, and his heart almost stops at the sight. anti is clinging to the back of the bench, wheezing. his face is white and he looks like he might faint. his nose and eyes are bleeding, and he’s shaking so badly chase doesn’t know how he’s remaining upright. “holy shit,” chase murmured. he’s got no fucking clue what to do. thankfully, the woman on the bench is gone, so when anti drags himself round the side of the bench he’s free to collapse onto it. anti gasps in pain, and leans his head back so chase can see how badly his neck is bleeding. chase stays silent, staring at anti wide eyed. he’s never seen anti hurt before, and he doesn’t know if he should try to help or not.

after about thirty seconds, anti leans forward, his head almost touching his knees. his legs are shaking. he reaches into his hoodie pocket and pulls out a wad of cash, shoving it into chase’s hand without looking at him.

chase clutches it tightly. “man. holy shit. are you…” he falters. anti waves him off, and wipes at his face. all he does is smear the blood around. neither of them point it out.

eventually anti looks up. “let’s get a hotel room,” he says. chase obliges.

they go to the nearest hotel. they book a room for two. the dead eyed man at the desk doesn’t question the bloodstained money, or the way anti is leaning against chase’s shoulder, relying on him to keep him upright. it’s getting worse, chase thinks as he takes the hotel key and pretty much drags anti to the elevator. chase should have realized that was a stupid idea, given anti’s current state. as soon as they step in, the entire thing short circuits, the lights giving out. anti makes a pained sound and leans in closer to chase’s chest. he stands in the darkened elevator, staring out through the opened doors across the hallway to the front doors where they had come in, out to the cars and people passing by outside. he doesn’t know how long he stands there for, but he’s eventually snapped back to reality when he anti mutters “grey? what are… fuck. did i break…” he tries to straighten himself, and as much as he hates it, chase’s dad instincts kick in and he wraps his arms around anti, holding him tighter to prevent him from falling. they exit the elevator and slowly make their way upstairs. a boy is sprawled out on the stairs next to their room. he’s breathing, but not moving, his eyes unfocused. chase opens the door to their room and anti immediately frees himself from chase and runs to the bathroom. he can hear him throwing up.

chase scans the room. it’s fairly large, with (thankfully) two beds at either side of the room, with a dresser and a lamp on either side. there’s a set of drawers on the other side of the room next to the bathroom door, and above it is a large tv. across from the room door is a balcony with tall glass doors and cream coloured curtains that match the walls. chase sighs and throws himself down on the bed closest to the door. there is a remote on his bedside table. he turns on the tv and the news comes on screen. it’s the same news report that he saw yesterday, and the day before that, and every day for the last three months. it hasn’t changed. henrik had determined that it stopped changing round about the time that the people of the city had started acting strangely. marvin had figured that without any outside force guiding them anymore, their minds had started to disappear, all personality draining from the and causing them to forget things slowly. chase remembers sitting in his chair in the kitchen, clutching a cup of tea tightly in both hands as the two had discussed this. he remembers the anger he had felt, not towards his brothers, but towards him. how could he have just left them like this? did he not care? had he really forgotten them?

he hears the toilet flush and anti exits the bathroom. he’s still pale and trembling. slowly, he crosses the room to the remaining bed and lays down, facing the wall away from chase. he feels the need to say something.

“so, uh,” he hesitates. “are you sick or something? i didn’t think you could get sick.”

anti is silent for a moment. “neither did i,” he mumbled. “i guess it’s to do with- you know. the bullshit we’ve been left with. we’re probably both going to get progressively weaker and weaker and then we’ll both die.” he says this last bit so bluntly that chase can’t help but be taken aback.

“it’s not his fault-”

“it is his fault,” anti shoots back without hesitation. he sits up and chase can see the ghost of the bloodstains on his face. he looks sick and tired and so much the opposite of the anti he knows. “he fucking left us here to die, adidas. all of us, including your wonderful brothers that he loved so much.” anti sneers, and shakes his head. “he was just using you. all of you. and well, he got what he wanted, didn’t he? wow, i wonder how many views we racked up for him and his fucking channel! probably enough for him to pay his fucking bills for a month or two, maybe he took his shitty girlfriend out to dinner or something-”

“shut up,” chase snaps. he sits up too, swinging his legs over the edge of his bed. “it’s not his fault, he clearly doesn’t remember, and who’s fucking fault is that, eh? who was it that put him in a coma in the first place?”

anti laughs without humour. “if we’re being technical, it was really your doctor who-”

“don’t start that shit with me!” chase warns. he’s trembling with rage. “you know fine fucking well that you were posessing him, it was never his fault!”

anti smirks. “what? me? i would never do such a thing.”

tears blur chase’s vision. “how can you laugh about all of this! none of this is fucking funny, we’re both in the same boat here, anti! we’re both going to die if we don’t think of something to-”

“don’t you get it?” the smile has disappeared from anti’s face and has been replaced with a look of disgust. “he literally left us to die! he doesn’t care! he-”

“he’s forgotten!” chase yells. he stands up and anti almost seems to shrink back. “he doesn’t remember us because of you!”

“don’t give me that horseshit,” anti snarls. he stands too, despite how much effort it seems to be taking out of his body. “he woke up here, asshole. he left by choice. he seemed to know enough to figure out how to get back into his own dimension, didn’t he?”

the anger seems to leave chase all at once, and he positively sags. through the tears, he sees anti’s triumphant face. “you see?” he says quietly. “the wonderful mister jack turns out to not be so wonderful after all.”

chase lies back down. he turns off the lamp next to his bed. he doesn’t look at anti.

...suspect has been apprehended outside of papa john’s on dumberham street by several officers who were tipped off by an anonymous caller. police are working on tracing-

chase turns off the tv. the room is silent.

he takes his phone out of his pocket and opens youtube. he clicks on his subscription list without even needing to think about it and finds the familiar green icon he’s looking for. the last video on his channel hasn’t changed- the thumbnail is still a picture of jack’s face, wearing his glasses and a grey shirt, looking serious with his coloured lights in the background switched off. the title is still the same. chase isn’t sure what he was expecting.

he turns his phone off and sobs silently. he knows anti can hear him, but he doesn’t care. he just wants everything to stop.

outside, the world is ending.

#ahhhhh #this took so long to write]#i hope you all enjoy it!#jacksepticeye #chase brody #antisepticeye #boop writes #when nothing's left

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reverseblackholeofwords · 6 years ago

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Magician and Moon (pt. 2)

The Ones Left Behind

(November 1, 2017)

It’s been almost three months. Chase has been taking care of the channel, keeping up appearances so that the fans don’t panic, but after last night’s display, they know that Anti is still there, lurking beneath the surface. And now there’s one more Ego to deal with.

Jackie crosses his arms over his chest and glares at the newcomer. “How do we know you’re not working with the glitch?”

No answer.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” Jackie questions, leaning forward and placing his hands on the table between them. The man in the bow tie and hat still doesn’t answer. He just stares across the table at Jackie with wide, frightened eyes.

“Not funny,” Marvin says, leaning back in his chair next to Jackie. “Why don’t you let me interrogate him?”

Jackie turns his head to Marvin and whispers, “I thought you said I got to be the bad cop this time!”

“Yeah, well you suck at it.” Marvin draws a gold coin out of his cape and dances it across his fingers to dazzle the new Ego. Jameson watches intently, his eyes drawn to the flicker of gold. “Like this? It’s magic.” Marvin’s voice has a hiss to it now that Jackie has noticed over the last few months. There’s also a cruelty to his once always bright gaze that was never there before. “It’s going to let me know if you’re telling the truth or not.”

Marvin grins, and the new Ego shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Since you don’t seem to feel like talking, we’ll make it ‘yes or no’ questions. All you have to do is nod your head for ‘yes’ or shake it for ‘no.’ Got that?”

Jameson nods silently and twists one of the buttons of his vest nervously.

“Very well, let’s begin.” Marvin rubs his thumb over one side of the coin and licks his lips. “Are you really mute?” He flicks the coin into the air. Jameson nods.

Marvin catches the coin and looks down at it. Heads, he’s not lying. The magician eyes him again. “Do you know what you are?” The coin flips through the air again, and Jameson shakes his head. Marvin looks at the coin and then asks the next question. “Did Anti talk to you?”

Jameson hesitates, and when Marvin catches the coin, he waits. Finally, Jameson nods slowly. Marvin doesn’t even bother to check the coin. He just stares deeply into the other Ego’s eyes. “Should I just save us the trouble and get rid of you now?”

He flips the coin again, but this time, Jackie snatches it out of the air. “Marvin.”

Tears form in Jameson’s eyes, and Marvin stands quickly. “Give me my coin back! I’m not done!”

“Yes, you are. It’s obvious that Anti would try to enslave him, but that doesn’t mean we’re going to hurt him. He’s just as scared as we are.” Jackie looks from Marvin to Jameson. “We have to be careful. Anti took someone from us a few months ago, and we don’t want him to take anyone else.”

Chase appears in the doorway behind Jameson, and Jackie nods to him. “Chase is going to take you to your room where we’re going to keep a close eye on you, but you’ll be safe here as long as you want to be.” Jackie raises an eyebrow at the new Ego. “Understood?”

Jameson nods avidly, wringing his hands together. There’s still a bandage tied around his finger, blood staining it. Chase takes Jameson by the elbow and helps him up. “Come on. You should take a hot shower and relax. I’m making dinner. Do you like chili?”

Jameson seems to take immediately to the kinder Ego, and Jackie isn’t surprised. He seems so much like a child, and Chase knows how to deal with kids better than any of them. Once he leads Jameson out of the room and shuts the door behind them, Jackie turns to Marvin again. “I know that we’re all under a lot of stress since Henrik was taken, but that doesn’t excuse you threatening the new kid.”

Marvin snatches back his coin and tucks it away. “At least I’m trying to get our brother back!”

Jackie slams his fist down on the table and points an accusing finger at Marvin. “Don’t you dare think that you’re the only who cares about getting Schneep back! How do you think I feel? I’m supposed to protect people, and I can’t even keep my own brothers safe! But that doesn’t mean I’m going to become just like Anti in order to protect them.”

Marvin’s hands light with blue fire in his anger. “I am not Anti.” The fire flares brighter for a moment and consumes Marvin in the light so that when it fades, he’s gone.

Silence settles heavily on Jackie’s shoulders, and the hero pulls the mask from over his eyes, looking down at it with shame burning in his cheeks. He should’ve been there, but he wasn’t. Instead, he was off doing other “heroic” things. But what kind of hero was he now?

Back in his room, Marvin looks down at the failed attempts to learn the banishing spell. Crumpled pieces of paper, scorch marks along the carpet, and broken mirrors lined against the wall. Marvin stares at his own reflection, broken and cast back at him from a thousand angles. His magic is constantly running on low now, and it’s begun to wear on him. His eyes are bloodshot and rimmed by tired shadows. He’s lost weight, and his once well-maintained hair has become a tangled mess.

When the Doctor disappeared, Anti stole more than just a brother. He stole their ability to sleep at night, their ability to trust one another, and he might be stealing Marvin’s sanity.

The magician mutters a communicating spell and taps the glass of one of the mirrors. A familiar face appears with his bar in the background. When the other Ego notices the reflection of Marvin’s face in his glass of wine, he smirks. “Well, if it isn’t my old pupil.”

“Phantom, I need your help.”

The demon raises an eyebrow in interest. “Tell me, how can I be of assistance?”

#marvin the magnificent #phantom #jackieboy man #jameson jackson #chase brody #dr. schneeplestein #antisepticeye #magician and moon #magician and moon part 2

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bbclesmis · 6 years ago

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Can the BBC’s Les Misérables do justice to Victor Hugo’s epic novel?

Few who love Les Mis the musical have read its source: a 1,500-page Victor Hugo novel. As the BBC tackles the book, David Bellos explains why it’s such a popular text to adapt.

The Sunday Times, December 16 2018, 12:01am

At dawn on June 19, 1815, in a muddy Belgian field where Napoleon has just lost his last battle, a scavenger filches the watch and purse of a dying soldier; a few weeks later, a long-term inmate of Toulon jail is released with a yellow passport and 109 francs. That’s where interlocking stories of Les Misérables begin, with Thénardier robbing the father of Marius, and Valjean setting off towards Digne.

If you think the magic of Les Mis comes mainly from the operatic version by Boublil and Schönberg, wait until you see the new adaptation by Andrew Davies, drawn from the book and not, like Tom Hooper’s 2012 film, from the musical, which leaves out most of Hugo’s novel’s story and doesn’t even mention the Battle of Waterloo. Davies’s script begins at the beginning, and the director, Tom Shankland, makes a truly memorable opener out of it.

Any adaptation of Les Misérables stands in a global tradition of spin-offs in every medium. In the cinema alone, there are about 70 full-length Misérables, in languages as varied as Russian, Farsi and Arabic. In Japan, there has been an independent strain of Mis-mania, expressed in manga and animé, for 100 years.

It’s not hard to see why Les Misérables is so much more attractive to dramatists than any other novel of the 19th century. Despite long passages of historical and philosophical discussion, Hugo’s saga of the poor has a simple narrative arc. It tells the redemptive life story of the former convict Valjean, from his release at Toulon to his death in Paris 20 years later. And, despite the sufferings that fill its pages, it is an optimistic story of how a man from the bottom of the pile may aspire to goodness and achieve it through persistence and sacrifice (plus the kind of luck that novels can invent). That’s dramatic enough.

Hugo was also a dramatist of genius. He created grand scenes ready for staging. The candlestick episode at Digne; the courtroom in Arras, where Valjean gives himself up to save an innocent man; the hold-up in Boulevard de l’Hôpital and Valjean’s escape from it; and the opening vision of a vulture-like thief robbing a dead man the morning after the greatest battle ever fought. Nearly all these great scenes feature a hero, part Hercules, part Christ, who defines himself through actions, not through thoughts and words. In fact, Valjean hardly says a word to himself, and not many to other people, either.

This leaves adapters and directors free to create their own image of this mythical figure. We’ve had a Valjean who looks like a tramp (the rough-hewn Harry Baur in Raymond Bernard’s 1934 film) and one who looks like a banker (in the Japanese TV serial), alongside handsome young men (Fredric March, Liam Neeson) and an action-movie star (Jean-Paul Belmondo) who had trouble pretending to be the right age. What we’ve not had is a Valjean who looks like Hugo: a short, broad-shouldered man in late middle age, in remarkably good physical shape. Despite being too tall, Dominic West, in this new TV version, comes closer than most. Les Misérables is not autobiographical (Hugo never went to prison, got buried alive or went down the sewers), but the writer’s moral self-identification with the suffering hero is one of the fundamental strengths of his book.

It was destined for the stage from the start. Even before the last volumes went on sale in July 1862, Charles Hugo, the writer’s son, began drafting a stage spectacular. A script doctor was hired to get it into shape for its premiere in Brussels in January 1863. It still flopped. But, published as a book, it influenced adaptations as to what to cut and keep.

The addition of music also has roots older than the West End musical version. Almost as soon as the first American translation of the novel appeared, a dramatist called Albert Cassedy dashed off Fantine, or The Fate of a Grisette, a popular opera with a score by Charles Koppitz. Music also plays an overlooked role in the novel: the tune Cosette practises on her piano- organ and the songs sung by schoolgirls in the Champs-Elysées, by convicts on tumbrils, by students in restaurants, hummed by a hunter in the woods and shouted out by an urchin on his way to the barricade, make up a concert programme of popular music in 19th-century France. It’s time to dust these off and perform them as the music Hugo had in his head.

Britain has had an unhappy relationship with Hugo’s epic tale because its authorised translation, by a retired military gentleman with his own views about what happened at Waterloo, was a complete disaster. For legal reasons, no new version could be brought out for decades thereafter. It didn’t help that the translation was available only in a costly hardback format.

Les Misérables reached its real audience in Britain through stage plays, and it’s amazing to see just how many there were: Charity, by CH Hazlewood, “founded on Victor Hugo’s story of Les Misérables”, was performed in London in November 1862; then came Jean Valjean, by Harry Seymour, Clarance Holt’s Out of Evil Cometh Good, in 1867, and many more. They concentrated heavily on Part I of Hugo’s five-part novel. The battle scene at Waterloo in Part II and the “revolutionary” stories of Parts IV and V seem to have been ignored most of the time.

In Russia, too, Tolstoy’s retelling of Les Misérables in simple language focused on Bishop Myriel’s charitable gift of silver to a rough customer. It was this fable-like episode, transposed into English by Norman McKinnel as The Bishop’s Candlesticks in 1908, that was turned into a silent short film by Herbert Brenon in 1913, which was then remade with a soundtrack in 1929. It never stopped, leaving Andrew Davies with a rich inheritance to renew — and to overturn. But he keeps one of the glitches that early translators made and that all Hollywood movie versions retain: he has Valjean steal the bishop’s silver cutlery, whereas in the novel he steals his silver plates (the French word “couvert” having changed its meaning).

One reason why Les Misérables has been remade in so many languages and periods is sex, or, more precisely, its total absence. It wasn’t prudery that kept Hugo off the topic. (He had plenty of experience, to put it politely.) But Les Misérables is about justice, social morality, crime, punishment, the meaning of history and the full potential of human life.

It’s true that old Gillenormand boasts of his past as a rake, but at 90 years of age, he’s long past acting out. It’s also true that Fantine becomes a prostitute — but Hugo deals with the episode in just seven words. Adaptations that put sex into the story express not what Hugo wrote about, but what some audiences are expected to find alluring.

On the other hand, a belief in the existence of a god is integral to the book’s meaning. Deeply sceptical of the Catholic church, Hugo omits Christian artefacts and rituals (including midnight Mass at Montfermeil and the church wedding of Cosette and Marius) to a degree that is almost comical in a panorama of 19th-century life, but he insisted that Les Misérables was a religious work. The prismatic glint of sunlight through foliage that Shankland deploys in the new BBC version, to show the start of Valjean’s conversion after robbing Petit-Gervais, seems to me an intelligent and respectful way of hinting at what Hugo meant.

One of the more puzzling aspects of Les Misérables and its flourishing international afterlife is its exclusive focus on France. There’s not a single foreigner among the 120 named characters in the novel; barring occasional remarks about London, Poland and the United States, Les Misérables talks exclusively about the history, politics, social structure and social ills of the country that Hugo considered to be top nation for all time, namely his own.

Though largely written in Guernsey and initially published in Belgium, the book was written for the French by a man whose long exile had no foreseeable end. Its first translator into Italian requested permission to cut historical passages because “there are some Italians, rather a lot in fact, who say: ‘This book, Les Misérables, is a French book. It is not about us. Let the French read it as history, let us read it as a novel.’”

Permission was refused. The intensity and completeness of this exposition of the social ills in 19th-century France effectively turned that now mythical place into a stand-in for the whole world. You can’t blame Hugo for not being in tune with 21st-century ideas of the politically correct, but you have to admire him for standing outside the conventions of his day.

His response to the translator has a prophetic sense, and answers in advance the question of why his French-focused masterpiece continues to attract readers, fans and adapters all over the world: “I do not know whether [my book] will be read by all, but I wrote it for everyone... Social problems go beyond borders. The sores of the human race, these running sores that cover the globe, don’t stop at red or blue lines drawn on the map. Wherever men are ignorant and desperate, wherever women sell themselves for bread, wherever children suffer for want of instruction or a warm hearth, Les Misérables knocks on the door and says, ‘Open up, I have come for you.’”

David Bellos is the author of The Novel of the Century: The Extraordinary Adventure of Les Misérables (Penguin £10.99). Les Misérables starts on BBC1 on Dec 30 at 9pm; Dominic West is interviewed in the Magazine next Sunday

‘The Glums’: a potted history

● The full text of Les Misérables in the right order of reading was not available to British readers until 2008, in a version by the Australian writer Julie Rose.

● In 1897, the Lumière brothers shot a one-minute reel of a quick-change artist masquerading as Hugo, Valjean, Thénardier, Marius and Javert. This was the first time fiction had ever appeared on celluloid film.

● Victor Hugo’s wife, Adèle, operated as publicity manager for the novel’s launch. She created a poster campaign featuring illustrations of the main characters, making the novel’s imminent appearance known long before its publication. Nothing like that had been done before. She also had announcements prepared for newspapers and requested that they were held back from publication until she gave the signal, making Les Misérables probably the first work launched under embargo.

● When Hugo was ready to publish Les Misérables in 1862, he secured the publishing deal of all time: in today’s terms, he was paid about £3m as an advance on a contract allowing the publisher Albert Lacroix to print the book for just eight years. Lacroix had to get a huge bank loan to finance the book.

● Charles Dickens met Hugo in Paris in 1847, visiting his splendid apartment on Place Royale. There is not a trace of the event in Hugo’s records, which suggests the British author didn’t make a strong impression on the literary star of his day. In Dickens’s eyes, though, Hugo looked “like the Genius he was”.

● Hugo’s contemporaries weren’t all taken with his novel: “This book is written for catholico-socialist shitheads and for the philosophico-evangelical ratpack,” Gustave Flaubert wrote to a friend.

● When Hugo fled France in 1851, both his sons were in prison and Louis-Napoléon — Napoléon III — was his sworn enemy. “Because we had Napoléon le Grand, do we have to have Napoléon le Petit?” he quipped.

● Les Misérables has been adapted for radio and cinema more times than any other novel.

● Classical literary French had a restricted vocabulary. Racine got by with about 2,000 words. Hugo uses about 20,000 different words in the 630,000 words of the text of Les Misérables — maybe as many as in all of Shakespeare working in English, which has a much larger vocabulary in the first place.

https://www.thetimes.co.uk/magazine/culture/can-the-bbcs-les-miserables-do-justice-to-victor-hugos-epic-novel-50wtqgvdj?t=ie

#les mis bbc #bbc les mis #articles #David Bellos #victor hugo #spoilers #episode 1

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pinkvhs · 6 years ago

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JSE Ego Content

( UPDATED FRIDAY, DECEMBER 7, 2018 )

this was a post I made as an answer for my friend a while back. Here is a full info dump of everything I know so far when it comes to Seán’s ego stuff.

Please add on or send me info if you got more.

Heads up, its a long read.

Here is a mayhem2k18 master post and Here is another post describing past events too

Mayhem2018 or Mayhem2k18 is also a tag people used this year to talk about the mass ego videos Sean did back in May so there might be more posts there too that I missed!

Egopocalypse is another tag too!

So basically, back in August of 2016 we were first introduced to Marvin the Magnificent during a Jacksepticeye Power Hour. At first these videos were named different titles but Sean changed them to be the introduction videos to his characters. Marvin is a magician video and it ends with him getting frustrated with magic and ends up coloring a cat mask. Thats the only video to this day that we have of him until later in May of 2018 when we got a mask hiding in the background on Sean’s white board both on his Insta story, during the Am I Color Blind video, and on his Twitch stream. However, when someone pointed it out during the stream he went for a bathroom break and when it cut back the mask was gone. Later on in videos like First Winter it is debated if Marvin shows up in a glitch near the end of the video because people have pointed out a shot of him wearing the mask. He also seems to briefly show up in a glitch like form in Try To Fall Asleep along with Jameson Jackson (who I’ll get to in a bit). Its also debated if Marvin is actually powerful since during Sean’s tour it was asked what the egos majored in with college and he said “magicians don’t go to college but maybe literature so he can say some Shakespeare as he sends you into the mirror dimension.” But again, it is unsure. He is also suppose to have long hair as stated that Sean liked the idea of long hair Marvin over some fanart he saw and during the tour he mentioned that Marvin wanted a haircut for his birthday. The most recent we have seen him November during Sean’s tour he posted a photo of him dressed up as Marvin on his instagram story with a wig and mask a fan gave him

Next is Jackieboy Man, a superhero character who was introduced in July 2016. He has been in videos like south park for game play, however, Sean has said those videos are not canon. It also seems like he shows up in Ninja Sex Party’s music video Cool Patrol and some fans think this is Jackie’s back story but that has yet to be confirmed so it is mostly a fun thing. There is sadly nothing of major or hints of him except for an occasional “Where is Jackieboy Man when you need him?” from Sean during the summer of this year. We don’t know much about him at all he is in a similar boat as Marvin.

Next is Henrik von Schneeplestein or Doctor Schneepletein. He is a doctor character we first saw in September of 2016. When it comes to medical videos like Bio Inc he shows up. He is a German doctor who has a family but there seems to be some issues with that as it was briefly mentioned in his first appearance. In August of 2017, Kill Jacksepticeye was posted and it involves him, Jack, and Antisepticeye. After the events of what seems to be Say Goodbye, Jack is dying and Henrik doesn’t want to lose him again. Henrik is good friends with Jack along with Chase Brody and has saved him before and got Chase help (who I will get to soon). Slowly during that video, Henrik begins to be taken over by Anti. He starts to laugh manically, tries to “hang” himself with his own headphone cords, each time he says antidepressants the word Anti is emphasized and glitches / echoes sounding. More glitches occur on screen both to Henrik as his eye bleeds, voice changes, and begins to beg for us (the viewer) to please help him, “I need your help! Save Jack Anti “. It ends with Jack dying and Henrik crying out for his friend and it cuts to black. Then Anti appears. Since then, it was months since anyone has heard of Henrik till Sean uploaded a postcard saying Wish You Were here with a beach that can be found in Germany. Then the start of Mayhem 2018 happens with The Doctor is Back . Its a doctor game but “Doctor Jacksepticeye” plays it but the video ends with Henrik opening the door and Jack seeing him asking “Who are you?” and Henrik being angry saying “I am the good doctor and that is MY chair!” and it ending there. Since then we haven’t heard or seen Henrik.

Chase Brody we were introduced to in April of 2017. He is a dad who runs a Dude Perfect like parody channel called Bro Average. He seems like a happy fun dad who is energetic and kind of like a “suh dude” kind of guy. Later in his video we see he is having family issues with his wife and she is taking their kids away from him. It cuts to him sitting down on the phone talking to Stacy, his wife, back to him doing trick shots and playing with nerf guns and a puppet named Chad, then back to him sitting down asking her to “please just let me see the kids”. He briefly gets on the phone with one of his children saying “hi sweetie, daddy loves you “ but getting cut off and him crying (comedically but still). It then cuts to him being passive aggressively angry but still smiling and doing tricks. It ends with him putting a nerf gun to his head and pretending to shoot himself and falls to the ground. However he gets up and is fine at the very end. The next video we hear from his is Stories Untold, at the end of the video we hear him calling out to his friend Jack saying “Jack! Jack! This is Chase…you need to wake up” with the morse code saying “Where Am I”. The know for sure we see him in is May 2018 with TIE, a game about depression. This slowly grows from Jack playing and cuts to him being in Chase’s shirt explaining how his friend is in a coma and how things have been rough for him and he wishes things could go back to how they were “Back to when I was happy. When I had people in my life”. It is also revealed that this whole time we have been watching Chase take over the channel for Jack since he is in a coma. It then cuts to a live action bit with Chase sitting in a dark candle lit room, sitting alone, face hidden as he drinks many cups whiskey and looks at and old photo (assumed to be his family) and cries. He then walks off leaving his hat on the table and the video ending there. The next video, as confirmed by Robin (Sean’s friend and editor), was Dark Silence. At the end of the video we see Chase walking around his house with a lighter hearing children’s screams and cries. He walks up the stairs and the whole hallway turns red. Standing in front of him is Anti with his back turned and then slowly turning around. Chase screams out “Where are they?! What do you want from me?!” as Anti walks towards him in a new glitchy way and the video cuts to black. The only recent theory of him being in a recent video was 60 Parsecs with the mentions of Stacy. Sean is also the most excited to go deeper into Chase’s character as talked about recently this year. He was also mentioned in The Watson Scott Test video with the “wake up Ja-” “Ch@se” and face camera glitches.

Jameson Jackson is the newest character of his and was introduced in Halloween of 2017. He is a silent film type of character that you would see in old 1920s films with the dialogue appearing on title slides. It starts off with Jack giving his intro and it fading / cutting to him dressed as Jameson or JJ. The video is cheery for the most part and he is carving pumpkins but later on it spirals when he slips and cuts his hand with a knife and is in pain. Anti once again shows up and seems to have possessed him as he makes neck slicing gestures to JJ’s neck, slides saying “watching” “puppets” “smile” “still here”, holding up the knife used to carve the pumpkin, laughing, and music takes an eery turn. He removes JJ’s mustache while grinning but also cuts back to JJ still having. But then it stops and JJ seems fine and cheery then the video ends with an outro too. As mentioned, he then seems to be in Try To Fall Asleep with Marvin back in May of this year. The next video we have any word of him was Akinator when Sean tried to see if the game would guess JJ. Here we got that JJ is British, but also didn’t get many answers to things such as “is your character a puppet”. Along with glitches in that video too and it ending on a note with Jack screaming into a dark, static, broken septiceye sam tank outro screen. There is also apparently Anti’s laugh at the end too. Its also seems that JJ is mute or has no voice again as stated that for his birthday Jameson wants a voice

AAAANNND for the glitch himself, Antisepticeye. First video back in October 10th of 2016. The concept of Anti has been around awhile, some calling him darksepticeye, but this was the first time Sean actually started to have fun and turn him into a character. During October of 2016 there were many Anti videos in places people today, and even during the time, didn’t think he would be. [playlist of all October 2016 Anti videos and a few 2017 vids ] However, the major appearance we see him in was Say Goodbye where Jack carves pumpkins and things slowly start being strange like giggling, camera glitches, Jack’s nose bleeding, him hearing footsteps and noises in his house. It escalates where Jack looks dead in the camera and with a shakey hand, slices his neck with a knife and falls dead into the pumpkin. Anti then gains control of Jack’s body and laughs as he reaches out to the camera and it cuts to black with a distant “HELP ME!” yell coming from Jack. It fades to Anti laughing, waving his knife at us and himself as he talks about how Jack is gone forever with it ending “say goodbye”. He then shows up again for a Pax panel opening video in March 2017 called Always Watching. Again, its Jack talking to the people at the panel and the screen starts to glitch and Anti shows up again saying that “he is always there. always watching” till it ends saying “enjoy the show”. This was more of a fun Pax intro than anything but its still an Anti appearance. August of 2017, Kill Jacksepticeye is when we see him in video next but before that Jack had left pictures and other things leading up to his appearance so we were all on edge. But then again, this is nothing new. Once the screen fades to Anti he says “Who do you think you’ve been watching this entire time? My puppets” and “I wonder what will happen to your favorite boy next time?” meaning, all the other characters are in control of Anti and are his “puppets” and our favorite can die next time we see them again. Next video he is in is Jameson Jackson’s in October 2017 and then Overnight Watch in December 2017. This happened during Jacksepticeye’s Holiday Special charity live stream but Sean pokes fun and denies this ever happened (even though it infact did). From then on we didn’t hear from Anti until May of this year with his full body and completely different appearance in Dark Silence. Leading up to this, its important to note that the colors red & blue are shown throughout mayhem like an indication that yes, this is an ego video. Since before that, Jack(or Chase) wakes up from a nightmare with whispers saying “I remember what he did to me” at the end of Stories Untold and seem to go together due to the noises. Not too long after Dark Silence, Exiles was uploaded and it has an abrupt Jack showing up on screen confused as to where he is until he finds out he is in the hospital. It ends abruptly with Jack staring blank in the camera, his eyes and mouth opened and gasping for air as blood runs down his eyes with whispers saying “you did this its all your fault” and the ending screen is Sam covered in red light playing in reverse while a siren goes off and some think its an evacuation or warning siren . Shortly after that First Winter is uploaded and close to the middle of the playthrough it shows a dead Jack looking at the camera with blood still running down his face along with a door opening. There was also added Anti bits in the audio that some believe he is saying “Let me out ” along with other things that were not part of the game audio. Close to the end of the game, Jack expresses how “he has never been happier to be home” when even more Anti glitches happen and it seems like a body is walking behind him. Now the most recent Anti appearances are from Transference of September 21st, 2018 . The first video there was nothing (from what I know of) but the second video there are plenty of hidden Dark Silence Anti moments that are VERY hard to spot the first time viewing. He was then brought back with Three Scary Games 1 Video. There are Many glitches that happened in face camera and an eerily similar pitched voice is spoken. There was also a glitch transition in Four Scary Games 1 Video. He was also mentioned in The Watson Scott Test video with the face camera glitches and as mentioned the text of the game being manipulated (thanks Robin). The Next Anti video is from December 1st with Umfend (also titles Time Is Broken..subtle) it has glitches once again and with a very ominous “Do you remember?”. The most recent, December 7th 2018 is where at the end of Sally Face Chapter 4 part 1 with the Sam ending screen being completely glitched out and having distorted audio (also wanting us to watch to the end)

Some other mentions are:

Sean changing the FNAF Sister Location video titles back in August of 2018 and how the description has been this from the start

Sean changing his twitter header to Anti after Dark Silence

Some skeptical connections with Chase and some other Power Hours

Sean possibly hinting the First Winter video since the first Stories Untold video. He has done date hinting in thumbnails in the past.

Comparisons to Anti now and other Anti videos

Sean reblogged this post with Chase and Anti involving Dark Silence

There is also connections with Jack’s fears and Anti where Sean talked about his fears during the Visage play through

Sean has also said that we have missed some things in his videos before and that alone is enough to make me want to commit perish

There was no major video of Antisepticeye on Halloween 2018 or another Jameson Jackson video

Sean does want to make more ego content and is excited about it. He talked about it during a Reading Your Comments video late November of 2018

SO OVERALL

#.txt #long post #jacksepticeye #i THINK thats a good summary of things for now #there are smaller bits here and there i missed yeah but i just wanted to keep for the most part major like stuff

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